Editing Toaru Majutsu no Index:GT Volume4 Chapter3

“God, is everyone still talking about R&C Occultics? This is ''my house'', you know?”

“We can’t stop their aboveboard lobbying. An IT company that big can throw a lot of money around, so we have people questioning your decisions from the opposition party ''and'' from our own party. Today’s online debate is going to be rough from the very beginning.”

“(You’re not naïve enough to think that aboveboard money is the only thing at play here, are you? Damn them for ruining my chance to hold the entire country’s attention during primetime.)”

Aide Roseline Krackhart quietly caught up to President Roberto Katze and Vice President Darris Hewlane in a White House corridor.

“Excuse me, Vice President, but no phones allowed past this point. I will hold onto that for you.”

“Oh? But this doesn’t use Panda OS.”

“The Patriot Act just had another minor amendment, so all phones are banned regardless of developer. Not even Grapple or Bagel are allowed anymore. They can be used to spy even when powered down.”

“How do you even leak information from a debate being aired live to the entire world?”

This corridor doubled as the stage for any last futile resistance.

The White House was the President’s home, but he could not just wander around the entire place in a bathrobe. And that was especially true of the press room overflowing with so many reporters.

The beautiful aide stuck the Vice President’s phone in her pocket and then whispered in the President’s ear.

“This is an online charity debate, but the opposition intends to go full throttle right out of the gate.”

“And this is supposed to be a relaxed affair used to gather ad money for the disadvantaged.” Roberto scratched roughly at his head with a glove-like hand. “And if I’m gonna have someone mad at me, I’ll take your graceful, polite voice over those smelly old folks on the opposition. Makes me jealous just hearing you’re mad at them instead.”

“Don’t worry. I will never smile for a sexual harasser with no sense of decorum or manners.”

He decided it was best not to ask how she had gotten the scripts and flowcharts the opposition party was using.

“But right now I’m worried about you because you can be so sloppy. Are you wearing a tie? What about socks? Please tell me you’re sober this time.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve thought this through.”

“Which hand do you use when swearing on the bible?”

“I’m insulted you have to ask. You do it like this, mommy.”

“FYI: using a digital bible on a tablet is still controversial. And I have to confiscate it anyway.”

While a phone would fit in her pocket, Roseline was unsure what to do with the tablet.

“Again, they are taking this very seriously. Show any opening and they will lay the blame on you until your political career is dead. So do not give them that opening. Even a bit of bedhead could be catastrophic.”

The aide’s sharp words made Roberto sigh.

“What, more fighting over money?”

“Not just that. The opposition leader’s son and daughter-in-law live in Los Angeles. Her first grandchild was part of the disappearances. You can infuriate a politician just like you can a gang member. Go after a family member too young to be aware what their job is and they ''go ballistic''. She will be attacking you more than her job requires. But if she lets her emotions run wild, you might have a chance to strike back.”

“Forget it. I’m no good at all those brainy tricks.”

“Don’t worry. No one is better than you at infuriating sensible people.”

Roseline turned out to be right.

Among all the reporters filling the press room, the greatest threat was the opposition party leader. The room was not large enough for hundreds of congress members to fit, but they could join the debate through their online social media accounts. Rumor had it that unseen hackers were working to see if they could hijack any of those accounts. Same for administrative access to the teleprompters displaying the politicians’ scripts. ''Never a dull moment in this country,'' thought Roberto.

After the President placed his hand on the bible and swore to tell the truth, he saw the genius who had failed to become empress stop herself from biting her thumbnail three times before the moderator from a neutral TV station took over.

“President, is it true you neglected your duties as commander-in-chief of the US military and left a foreign unit in charge of our country’s public order?” she asked, once it was her turn to speak.

“Are you asking if I am guilty of dereliction of duty as well as instigation of foreign aggression?” Roberto snorted with laughter. “We can’t use any branch of our military to resolve domestic issues. Especially for a preemptive strike against an attack that ''might'' happen. This is basic stuff.”

“And who is it protecting you in your very own home? The President’s life is guarded by the secret service, SWAT, and – yes – some of the marines, yet you abandon the very people who trust in you and pay you with their taxes? Shall I assume you intend to do absolutely nothing until the entire population of LA is dead?”

(I’m sure she’s trying to bait the President into saying the wrong thing, but this is quite the tightrope walk for her too.)

Roseline nearly clenched her teeth while listening from a short distance away.

During the morning, the US government had given each news company a calm reporting of the facts concerning the disappearance of Los Angeles’s people, but the internet had been unsure how to respond. 30 million people had inexplicably disappeared. It felt so unreal that most of the social media posts assumed even the government’s announcement was part of a promotion for a new movie or drama.

That silly optimism would die here.

The opposition party leader was using it as a trump card to attack the President. And the entire world was watching it live over the internet. How much shock and chaos would this confirmation spread across the country?

And this was only the beginning.

More and more of the opposition party raised their voiceless voices in the form of text. Some truly wonderful messages filled the live broadcast’s comments. They were displayed on the wall filling the space between the President and the opposition leader.

“Do we even know for sure R&C Occultics’s HQ is in LA?”

“If that IT company has broken the law, isn’t this an economic crime?”

“This never would have happened if you had waited until the LA residents and their assets could be safely evacuated before authorizing a military operation.”

There was no actual meaning behind the questions.

They were only bluffs meant to overwhelm the President with the sheer number of questions. It was like a bird’s nest created from tangling countless threads.

Then it was the opposition leader’s turn to speak again.

The look on her face was very different from the smile she gave for the cameras when donating money to the church or welfare organizations.

“President, why are you so hellbent on interacting with our and other countries through the military? When you suspect a crime within the country and you wish to investigate, that is a job for the police, is it not? Then you could have avoided this interference from Academy City and England.”

“Now, hold on. Try to remember what you yourself said earlier. I’m both this country’s leader and our military’s commander-in-chief. Seems a bit unfair to ask me not to think about the military. And if I agreed, I can already imagine you finding a way to complain about ''that'' too.”

“You chose to work with Academy City, who I hear has manufactured human clones, a clear violation of international law. Not just that, but a group of them with enough organization to carry out military action. And this is not just a malicious rumor; it comes from their new Board Chairman’s official testimony at his trial. You invited those savages into our country and gave them permission to use military weaponry! …Can you raise your right hand and swear to the American people that you made the correct decision as commander-in-chief? Can you swear that no fault can be found in your choices!?”

“…”

“Oh? You paused. I do not know what you are weighing in your mind, but a second’s hesitation can be the doom of a politician. You just implicitly told us all that you cannot wholeheartedly defend your actions. Is there something you are reluctant to tell us in front of the cameras broadcasting across the globe?”

An aide was no more than an aide. With Vice President Darris standing by Roberto’s side, Roseline did not have the authority to push past Darris and give Roberto some advice.

She instead sighed quietly by the wall where she would not be in the reporters’ way.

The opposition leader was so hard to deal with because she wielded truths and falsehoods simultaneously.

First of all, it was only natural for the military to protect the White House. The President was their commander-in-chief and the White House included a shelter and contained plenty of military secrets. Interpret it as protecting their own base and it was not at all unusual for the marines to be stationed here. It was entirely different from deploying them to LA.

But breathe a sigh of relief there and you would come to regret it.

Had allowing in England and Academy City really been the right thing to do? 30 million people had disappeared and they had no solid report on what had happened, so that was not a question anyone could answer immediately. Accurate information was needed first.

(But sending in ''ordinary'' forces would only lead to more loss of life.)

Unfortunately, only those who had actual experience with magic would understand that. Roseline had once been caught in the middle of an incident crawling with Gremlin magicians in Hawaii, but things that only a select few understood could not be used to explain official decisions.

If you did not explain your actions with a clear and simple logic that everyone could understand, then they would see you as a dictator.

Whether that was true or not, you would be rejected just the same.

The people were looking for an incomparable genius when they cast their votes, but they hoped for standard and relatable answers once their candidate was in office.

(Besides, tell congress we want to send in the military and one of them might leak it all to R&C Occultics. I don’t know how many of those greedy congress members have been lured in with a stack of cash slapping them on the cheek, but we could end up losing even more people if our attack loses the element of surprise.)

Carelessly making that argument out loud would probably result in the entire opposition party demanding to know what could be worse than 30 million people missing.

Those politicians saw themselves as heroes, but did they realize that whatever had caused the disappearances could directly attack Washington DC next? Since no one knew what caused it or what its range was, there was no way to defend against it. Being on the east coast was no guarantee of safety. Roseline could not believe how secure they sounded making their complaints even though it was all happening in the same country.

Having to helplessly watch it all play out was frustrating, but it was not without merit.

She could easily speculate that R&C Occultics was throwing money at the politicians just like any other aggressive corporation. And that would come in many forms – from honeytraps to taking data from their phones. She was on the lookout for any congress members forcibly altering the course of the debate. The online format was convenient since it left simple records of everything said. If she searched through all of that and drew lines between the friendships and other relationships, she might be able to detect the influence of the IT company.

Once she understood that, the President would not need to make the decision on his own.

“But…”

(We have to wait for now. It’s too soon to go on the offensive. I just hope that dumbass President doesn’t get baited into dropping any bombshells here.)

The beautiful aide glanced next to the President.

Vice President Darris Hewlane looked oddly nervous.

He appeared overly concerned about every little move the President made. The man preferred a Japanese diet of vegetables and fish for health reasons and his stomach was probably squeezing tight right about now.

(I know exactly how he feels. Or rather, if I have to associate myself with one of the two, I refuse to fall into the same category as that President. But the Vice President worries me specifically because he’s a reasonable person. I hope his nerves don’t make him do something stupid.)

Torturing the information out of her would be easy.

But the problem was Index. She had a perfect memory and would never forget anything she saw, so he wanted to avoid going too far with her around.

It was already dark out and they had moved from the gun shop to a British-style pub. Stiyl Magnus sighed.

(What am I doing here? I thought I had already made my decision here.)

“Ahh!” screamed Helcalia.

But only because she had spilled a cup of water while playing with Index. She snatched up a small box and held it up high while the water spread out across the table and then spilled down onto her thighs and lower stomach.

“Wh-what do I do? Won’t my wet clothes freeze?”

“Come here.”

“I don’t have any other clothes, though.”

“I know a way to dry the ones you have. It just takes some guts!”

Index took Helcalia’s small hand and led her to the back of the pub. Maybe it was because Index had complimented the birthday present’s wrapping paper and maybe it was because she seemed like less of a threat than Stiyl, but Helcalia had grown attached to Index despite fearing her so much before.

Stiyl watched them go and only realized a second later that he had let Index leave his sight alone with the daughter of their biggest suspect.

(I’m surprised with myself. Am I not as worried about her as I thought?)

After a bit, he heard the whirring of a motor running.

“Gyah!? I-I think it’s going to blow up!!” shouted Index.

“Driers don’t blow up,” insisted Helcalia. “But I bet it would be bad for my skin to do this while I’m wearing the clothes. I should take them off first.”

“Wow!? Th-that is some mature underwear…”

“Mama’s is see-through.”

“…What are they doing?” grumbled Stiyl.

But he could not let himself go back and forth on this issue. If he did not fully commit himself, he could not build up enough speed and would plummet into the canyon without reaching the other side.

He had chosen to shoot Kamijou Touma and not tell that girl about it.

Had he really thought they could be friends after that?

He did not mind if his own dependence on her led to his failure, but he could not let it bring harm to her.

(I need to focus on just the one task. I need to choose one thing and pour all of my energy into that.)

First of all, the sand magic being used on LA was Citrinitas. It was the third stage of the four said to create the red stone in the Rose tradition.

R&C Occultics had used the dark web to reveal to everyone around the world how they could use magic. But he had checked those sites and none of them mentioned Citrinitas. That meant this was someone the IT company had sent in, not an LA resident who had seen those sites.

So…

(They should be an originalist. Well, they are modifying it with the Logistic Hornet, but when making a cocktail, you want your ingredients to be as close to the original as possible.)

And in this case, the original grimoire would be written in German.

“No, wait…”

Things were different than before.

Once the two girls returned, they would probably be making a lot of noise again, so he needed to search Helcalia’s things while he could.

Kamijou Touma had managed to dig up a birthday present for her.

Stiyl did not care what was inside. He only needed the card.

''Happy birthday, Helcalia.

It should have been nothing more than some flowing cursive writing.

But Stiyl gulped.

(The handwriting has no German elements to it?)

Could you really tell someone’s language history from the idiosyncrasies of their handwriting? Couldn’t handwriting analysis only ''maybe'' determine if it was really by a specific person or not? Most any Asian would ask those same questions. But European culture generally used signatures instead of seals and signatures were used to authorize everything from marriage to war, so they put a lot more focus on handwriting.

In fact, handwriting played a role in a well-known story on the magic side. Yes, the story of the letters regarding the establishment of the Golden cabal. Westcott insisted they showed his correspondence with Miss Sprengel who lived in Nuremburg, Germany, but Ellic Howe and other skeptics had some handwriting analysis done, which revealed the spelling used in the letters were those of a Brit pretending to be a German, not an actual German.

It was the same as native pronunciation. A Brit who learned German later in life and one who learned German from birth would have subtle differences in their pronunciations.

“…”

Stiyl Magnus pulled out an invisible dye.

He had managed to read some residual thoughts from the Academy City printouts, so with handwritten text, he would be able to hear an actual voice like he was playing back a record.

He breathed in and out to refine the lifeforce circulating through his body into magic power.

He reached something unseen hidden within the message card’s handwriting. An unfamiliar woman’s voice played in his head like he had set the needle down on a record.

“Let’s see, I want this s-sach…? Oh, forget its name. I want this chocolate cake here. No, I don’t want a Christmas message on the chocolate plate. This is a birthday cake! How big would be best for two? Eh? It’s pronounced sachertorte? Spelled like that?”

Stiyl just stared, entirely forgetting to end the ceremony.

“Ha ha.”

That conversation had been nothing more than a mother preparing to celebrate her daughter’s birthday.

But it was devastating to Stiyl Magnus.

The Citrinitas spell had to have been learned by decoding a German original grimoire. That was a requisite step to use the magic directly or to indirectly support it with the Logistic Hornet. Magic and science working together might sound simple enough, but it was actually a risky bit of acrobatics. It required both sides to know exactly what the other would be doing.

And yet.

Sachertorte was as standard a German word as Kaiser. For that matter, if you pronounced A-B-C as ay-bee-see, you had the foundations of German entirely wrong. She probably pronounced Hamburg the American way too.

Residual thoughts could not lie.

No one could escape an answer they had found themselves.

“Melzabeth Grocery…”

Admitting to your own mistakes was a form of strength. If you stubbornly bent the truth instead, you were truly lost.

Kanzaki had sacrificed herself to entrust him with this.

But he refused to lose his cool.

In that sense, he was still the same priest he always was. He wrinkled his brow, bit down on the cigarette filter, and spoke under his breath.

“Damn, this means she can’t possibly be involved in the Citrinitas. I was 100% wrong there. And I can’t let ''an innocent person'' die because of it!!”

Kamijou Touma knew what kind of person Anna Sprengel was.

He had to choose between the ball-jointed doll wearing a dog-snout restraint and crawling like a dog and the alluring woman being weakly pulled along by the leash. The owner of the beautiful face might actually be her, but the real one could also be hidden within the doll. It was a challenge similar to someone pushing up one of their cards while playing old maid. It was too obvious, which scared him. But reading too much into it could also lead to disaster.

Could he really trust the appearance of the beautiful woman? Could he really deny the possibility of the real one being hidden inside the creepy doll?

Choose wrong and he could not save LA or Melzabeth. It would also leave him open to a deadly attack from the other one.

So he had to analyze R&C Occultics’s cruelty.

But the more he thought about it, the more either option seemed likely. He even came up with new possibilities, like the city being flooded with decoy women and decoy dolls, or a large group of magicians gathering to control Melzabeth.

If he let himself be led astray, it could send his fist in the wrong direction and lead to unnecessary bloodshed. If that happened, Anna was bound to activate whatever trap she had set up, trample on his justice and goodness, and relentlessly mock him.

In other words…

“It isn’t the owner or the pet…”

If you could bury as many mines as you liked, how could you guarantee the enemy soldiers would step on one? Placing just one on the vast battlefield and guiding them toward it with the terrain and psychology was hard, so why limit yourself like that?

There was a reason the term “minefield” existed.

And that was his answer.

“You’re both fakes! Melzabeth Grocery was never a part of this! She’s still trapped in the sand along with the other 30 million!!”

It didn’t matter if he chose the doll in the doglike restraints or the human being pulled along by the dog.

Anna had immaturely laid a trap on every path ahead.

If they pretended to be in pain and agony after he attacked, he would assume he had mistakenly attacked the real one and hesitate. Then they could use that opening to win.

What other possibility was there? There could be more decoy women and dolls hidden throughout the city, or R&C Occultics could be using its status as a large company to control Melzabeth with a large group, each one holding one of the puppet’s strings.

But it wasn’t either of those. If they had magic to control Melzabeth like that, they could just put her in danger to use her as a hostage. If they were placing several options in view to confuse him, then he could at least punch out these two here.

“Gee hee.”

And.

After that…

“Ee hee ha!! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha gee hee hee ah 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 hee hee ha (■Error analyzing voice. Please repeat that more slowly)!!!!!!”

Maniacal laughter echoed through the biting cold of the night.

It was not that either the owner or the pet was laughing.

The unsteady silver-haired woman and the crawling doll laughed crudely together. Almost like they were trying to strip away the dignity of the real woman who was not even here.

He doubted the Transla-Pen’s poor specs were to blame this time.

The doll raised its head like a howling dog and released a terribly distorted voice.

“Yes, yes. Indeed correct. Only ugly artificials here!!”

He heard a deafening buzzing sound.

But it was not a supernatural phenomenon produced by magic. It came from countless drones that looked like giant crane flies. They had cameras attached to their bellies and could record footage in the same high definition used for TV broadcasts.

He looked up to see them nearly covering the sky overhead.

“Are those reinforcements from the Logistic Hornet?” asked Othinus from his shoulder.

That would mean R&C Occultics was planning to broadcast their own crimes.

But that would not end up being a self-destructive confession.

The ball-jointed doll formed a large vertical curve like a dolphin jumping from the waves. At the same time, the silver-haired silhouette dropped to the ground.

The collar and leash came away and the positions of owner and pet switched.

The doll now held the leash and the silver-haired woman now crawled like a dog with the collar around her throat. Either could play either role. Perhaps there was no real hierarchy between them.

Both mouths shouted at once.

“But so what? The person here is no different in the face than Melzabeth Grocery. The crimes committed by me will all be Melzabeth’s crimes. The truth is easy to twist because the rules are made that way!!”

They drew a circle in midair as woman and doll swapped leash and collar again.

Citrinitas.

The true defender and trump card of the R&C Occultics HQ.

“Frustrated? Regret-filled? The good person dissolved in sand has no say. Even if the whole world hears this talk, the whole world will decide ''Melzabeth Grocery has gone crazy and talks nonsense''!”

The woman was back to crawling on the ground. She lifted the butt of her tight skirt higher than her head and her baggy T-shirt slid up far enough to see her navel. If this was meant to destroy her socially, they didn’t need to worry how the pose made her look.

“Is that all you wanted to say?” The boy silently but powerfully clenched his fist. “The jig is up. My fist can destroy the likes of you in a single blow and I have no reason to hesitate anymore. …I happen to know a nonhuman magician – a count was designed specifically to hijack people’s minds. But he proved that being made that way doesn’t mean you have to be a bad person.”

Yes.

That magician had entered Kamijou Touma’s body as a black pill and nearly hijacked his body, but he had instead lent Kamijou his power to resist Anna Sprengel’s atrocities and he had ultimately chosen his own destruction to save Kamijou.

Kamijou did not know what the other St. Germains had been like.

But at the very least, ''that one'' had not been an evil being.

He had been a person worthy of the utmost respect.

“So I won’t let you use that excuse.”

A mere high school boy spoke clearly.

He wouldn’t let people take it for granted that a nonhuman being or a user of terrible magic had to be a bad person.

He would challenge that assumption with the life St. Germain had saved.

“You aren’t a bad person because that’s just what you are or because that’s the only magic you can use. No matter what you are, you can always fight it and make a new path for yourself. That makes you actual scum who never even tried to fight it. So I won’t go easy on you. Now that I know you’re both enemies, I’ve got nothing to fear. Nothing can protect you now.”

“Were you even listening?” The crawling woman lifted the butt of her tight skirt high and her smile split apart, looking like drool could drip from her mouth at any time. “My crimes will be Melzabeth’s crimes. I said that, I believe? So! I am saying I will now commit a clear crime that even general society will see that way!!!!”

He heard a solid metallic sound.

No, not just one. They came from the road, the park, behind the frozen trees, and the building rooftops. He was surrounded by them. They came from giant mantises and jellyfish. More than 100 – no, more than 200 – of the bizarre powered suits designed to mechanically reproduce the #3 and #4’s powers were now targeting the one boy.

Those weapons could operate unmanned.

They were hybrid models that could switch between manned and remote-controlled modes, so they could operate in a deserted city.

Hadn’t Othinus suggested the possibility of the Academy City force being destroyed by its own hijacked weapons? And being able to use sand magic did not mean you could not use machines as well.

“The jig is up.”

The enemy mockingly threw his line back at him. The woman now held the leash and the doll crawled with the collar on its neck. They flipped roles like the two sides of a coin and the smooth-faced doll shouted at him. While the woman laughed maniacally.

“And these bullets can destroy the likes of you in a single blow!! Gee gee ee hee hee! Die in this crime-ridden city. ''And the point is for Melzabeth Grocery to never be able to recover from it''!!”

It was disgusting.

It was unbelievably ugly.

Kamijou had been pushed close enough to the brink of death that time seemed to slow, yet his thoughts were on the information mechanically translated for him by the Transla-Pen.

They were going to frame an innocent woman for their crimes to leave her social standing in tatters.

They were going to tear apart her family bonds and friendships, steal her job, and trample her purpose in life.

She would lose any place to live beyond R&C Occultics – no, beyond the Rosicrucians who had connections across the hidden side of the world. They would leave the woman entirely stranded, with nowhere else to turn. Was that any way to act when you were attracted to someone’s goodness and justice and wanted them to join you!?

“Human!! Those are only network-connected machines. Destroy their communications or computer chips and you have a chance. An EMP or powerful microwaves should do the trick! Just destroy some kind of high-power electronic device to create a lot of noise!!!!!”

Kamijou took off running as if physically struck by Othinus’s shout.

The mobile home had already been shredded and destroyed, but there was more to this harbor. A streetlight wouldn’t be enough, nor would a vending machine or ATM. But what about a giant disaster warning speaker attached atop a stainless-steel pole taller than the streetlights? The industrial power supply would be boosted further with a large amp to produce a volume loud enough to reach past the horizon, so it was sure to scatter lots of invisible electromagnetic waves if you destroyed it!

“No use, no use.”

The two figures swapped places again. The standing doll wagged its index finger while the crawling woman shook her head.

“''How do you expect to break down stainless-steel pole with puny hands''!? I could understand if your right hand shot fire. I would feel cautious if you could shoot out vacuum. But your right hand only destroys illusions!!”

“!!!???”

“Please try it if you think your right hand can actually break it! You think good intentions can defeat laws of physics? Then show me a miracle or a synonym! If you are capable!!”

It was not a question of reaching the speaker or not.

Even if he did reach it, he could not do anything with it.

So the enemy did not even bother using magic to stop him. Citrinitas only sent a merciless command to the mantises and jellyfish surrounding him.

The world had slowed to a crawl for Kamijou.

The machines were aiming more than just machineguns his way. These were the #3 and the #4. The attack coming for him a second from now would be true death. He could not move himself in any way that would dodge it. Stuffing paper below his clothing would not save him this time.

He had no way of avoiding death.

And the promised one second passed.

A dull crash range out.

“What?”

But.

It was Citrinitas, not Kamijou Touma, who raised their voice in surprise.

The silver stainless-steel pole thicker than a human arm had been cleanly broken away at the base.

The power cable running through it had broken and the powerful sparks scattered electromagnetic waves as a secondary effect, knocking out all of the Five Overs.

The pole heavier than a barbell fell atop a nearby yacht, crushing it.

This was undeniably real.

The destruction sounded unusually light because the boat was made of fiber-reinforced plastic, not metal.

Staring at the result in disbelief, the Citrinitas doll and crawling woman spoke in unison.

“Was the metal fatigued due to minus-20 weather? Did the sandstorm weather away the surface? No, no!! I question what happened!! That is not enough to explain!! Hee hee. H-how did you cheat? A normal human fist cannot break pillar of stainless steeeeeel!!!!!!”

He knew that.

Kamijou Touma agreed that this was cheating.

He could not explain it either. Because he was not the one who had caused it!

“''It is high time…''”

A single footstep rang loud in the frozen world.

“''…that you shut the fuck up, coldly warns Misaka while trying to suppress her irritation.''”

Kamijou was as taken aback as anyone.

What was she doing here?

She had short chestnut hair. She was short. She was a human clone girl wearing a thick coat over a prestigious middle school uniform, with special goggles on her forehead and a powerful anti-materiel rifle in her hands.

She was one of the mass-produced #3 clones known as the Sisters.

It was obvious how she had broken the stainless-steel pole. If you could not do it with your bare hands, you only had to use a weapon.

“But…why?” asked Kamijou in a daze.

“The Misakas were sent all around the world, explains Misaka. Most of us were sent outside of Academy City to different cooperative institutions. And that of course included some American labs.”

Her eyes remained entirely void of emotion, but there was definitely something there.

“And it is also possible for us to gather in a single location by coordinating over the Misaka Network. We used the information from ''the British government'' to rapidly respond to your crisis. From there, we observed you from a safe distance and worked out a plan.”

“…”

“Misaka apologizes if the habits she picked up in America show through, but fuck them. Misaka is sick of sitting idly by while those assholes have their way, says Misaka to demonstrate her intent to join the battle. Misaka also cannot bear to watch you take any more punishment.”

“Hee hee!”

A sound like an electric razor thrummed through the air as drones flew by over the two fake magicians.

“I captured that critical moment, you big fool!! The aerial surveillance drones are sending the footage out on a global stream. No way to hide it now. If you are really a clone, then you were doomed before the battle begins!”

The doll tried to deny the value of someone’s life while cackling with distorted laughter.

But then Citrinitas froze.

They were shocked.

Even after being told the drones were filming everything and streaming it to the entire world, the girl stood her ground.

No, not just her. Too many footsteps to count approached the park, the sounds blending together into something like leaves or grass rustling in the wind.

They were identical in every way.

No one could deny now that these girls were clones whose existence violated international law.

They were working to save the life of the boy who had been so enraged by the villain’s actions that he stood up to defend someone’s trampled dignity and was even now struggling to keep fighting.

Yes. They had not hesitated to gather on the battlefield as people with undeniably human hearts!!

“You said every crime you commit here will be blamed on Melzabeth Grocery. You said the rules allow the truth to be twisted as much as necessary.”

The group of girls all aimed their guns.

The Sisters spoke without a twinge of doubt.

“Then just try and twist this truth, announces Misaka. The Misakas here are an army of identical clones. So kiss Misaka’s ass, monster. Let’s see who gets all the attention: the Misakas or your precious twisted truth.”

“Hee, gee hee!”

“Misaka will reveal an answer not even you can hide: ''that Melzabeth Grocery did nothing wrong.'' And Misaka is more than willing to use the truth of her existence if it will overflow R&C Occultics’s processing power that lets you manipulate the world’s information.”

They were not really even watching the enemy anymore.

They had their say and did not bother listening to the rebuttal.

The doll took a trembling step back, but was stopped by a tugging on the leash. The identical girls kept their eyes on that, but they also glanced over at the boy.

“An army is best fought with an army, and technology is best fought with technology. Let the Misakas handle these bullet-spewing wimps. And you settle this in a way only you can, says Misaka, confident her war buddy has her back.”

Mechanical sounds came from all around as the incompletely destroyed Five Overs rebooted themselves.

But the clone girls were unfazed.

They readied their assault rifles, shotguns, and anti-materiel rifles like a single giant hedgehog in order to fight back.

“Go save the real Melzabeth Grocery and give us the ultimate happy ending, requests Misaka, knowing you would do it anyway. That is the obvious and simplest answer and it should be the natural way of our world. That is a cause Misaka is willing to fight for.”

“Hee hah hah!! Go to hell! I will crush it all! Clone killing has been added as an option, yes! Ee hee hah, you ***** (■Possible Southern US slang related to nonstandard sexual proclivities?)! I will guide that woman to hell’s depths, by making it all her crimes!!!!!!”

The aide could not hide her grave expression as she whispered into the President’s ear, but Roberto smiled fearlessly.

“I thought he was just a coward with a pointy chin and a pretty face, but looks like he knows what he’s doing.”

A certain boy had intentionally inspired public backlash by confessing to the crime of killing clones.

He had hogged the seat of the wrongdoer by making himself the villain who had killed 10 thousand people.

That distracted people from any hatred or disgust they might have had toward the human clones themselves. He made sure the identical girls were viewed as victims and could not be so easily criticized.

If he had simply built up their defenses to dodge the issue like that, Roberto would not have felt a need to defend him. Academy City’s inexperienced leader could have called it quits there, but he had taken it one step further.

He had revealed them, despite the danger.

He had shown them thinking human thoughts, sympathizing with someone’s trampled heart, and taking up arms for a just cause.

He had shown off how human they were and then asked the world whether or not it would accept those girls.

It was quite the gamble.

If the world was not moved, they might easily conclude that the clones were violations of international law and should be disposed of, no matter how many of them there were.

And when Roberto saw this once-in-a-lifetime gamble made with something that boy cared about more than his own life, he had just one thought in his head.

''Go for the big payout.

''If you run from what you really want to do and try to win enough small bets that they add up in the end, you’ll find yourself losing more and more as time goes on.

[[Image:GT_Index_v04_318-319.jpg|thumb]]

“My fellow Americans!!” Roberto grabbed the mic in his powerful grip and began speaking more like a professional wrestling announcer than a president giving a speech. “Academy City? Clone tech? It sounds like the opposition leader is trying to trip me up with some meaningless detours, but I’m game if she is. After all, taking some detours is a lot more fun than just heading straight home!! Listen up, USN Broadcasting and TV AMB! I’m about to get you the best ratings you’ve had in years!!” He winked toward the cameras broadcasting this nationwide. “I came from outside this country. In fact, I got my start as an undocumented immigrant who crossed the Mexican border with means I’d rather not get into here. From there, I learned to read and do math, I successfully modified the election laws, and then the American people chose me to be the third Hispanic to ever serve as president!! If a high school dropout like me can be elected, then anyone has a chance. I carry the hopes of so many people in this great country. Race? Ethnicity? Religion? Gender? Language? Education? Class? They can all eat shit. Here in the best damn country in the world, we go around tearing down those meaningless barriers, so why the hell should we criticize people for ''the circumstances of their birth''!? Here in the land of the stars and stripes, we need to smile and welcome in anyone who shows up at our doorstep, no matter how they got there. And that goes double for these girls who have chosen to take up weapons and risk their lives to save 30 million of our own people! To take back Los Angeles!! And to protect an innocent woman from being blamed for crimes she didn’t commit!!!!!!”

Roseline’s face crinkled up like she had just eaten a Japanese umeboshi. With the President straying from his prepared speech and providing a deluge of adlibbing instead, even her elite brain was feeling overloaded. Which was usually how these things went.

So it was the Vice President who whispered in his ear. His job was to support the President, so he could not have the man making a mess of things with his excess courage and enthusiasm.

“President, none of this had been confirmed yet. What is the clones’ objective? We do not actually know they are fighting for our sake. They may simply be running wild.”

“No!! I trust them wholeheartedly!! Because whether they’re born from a sperm and an egg saying howdy deep inside someone’s body or they’re born from the DNA extracted from someone’s cells, all people have the same human heart beating in their chest! Those girls in LA have kind hearts! Oh, man! Standing up and yelling has got me a little hard, but I swear it wasn’t from talking about those girls!”

“That argument is nonsensical!!”

“It was the talk of a sperm and an egg that did it! And it’s not a full one, just the startings of one, so it’s all good!”

“Stop talking about that, goddammit!! What connection do those clones even have to Melzabeth Grocery anyway? It seems highly unlikely they would do all this for a complete stranger!!”

“Really, Darris!? You’re getting a lot of gray in your hair nowadays, but don’t trust the legends saying Asian eel will help you get it up. We’re Americans, so when we have trouble in bed, we eat red meat! Go for that pound of sirloin and don’t be afraid to add some garlic!!!!!! …Oh, and one other thing.”

“Yes?” blinked the Vice President.

He could not keep up with Roberto, who brought the mic up to his mouth before continuing. And he was not recommending foods to boost an old man’s virility.

“''How did you know the woman being framed was named Melzabeth Grocery''?”

For a brief moment, Darris Hewlane could not get his mind to focus on what the President had said.

But then it hit him. He should not have tuned out Roberto Katze’s emotional speech. Roberto had intentionally made the lengthy speech as a distraction. During his speech, he had only said the clones were protecting “an innocent woman from being blamed for crimes she didn’t commit”!

“I thought I might catch someone with that one, but I didn’t expect you, Darris. And unlike those cute clones, you can’t claim you were secretly gathering information in LA while standing here. I mean that’s on the other coast and there’s only one of you.”

“Oh…”

“And 30 million people disappeared from LA, including the undocumented immigrants. Pretty unlikely that you would guess the right name out of a pool that large. You might have better odds of guessing the nuclear launch codes on the first try.”

He could seem like he didn’t care.

But the President of the United States actually had an overwhelming presence.

It was not an issue of party. When he put together a plan, it was to make the entire country a better place. When he made a decision that made his own party grimace and when he invited the opposition leader to his own home to have a shouting match, it was all because he trusted that the conflict would lead to a wonderful idea.

Ultimately, he saw anyone who worked to better the USA as his ally.

But he would never allow the opposite.

He was always watching and shaking hands with his American allies, but he would also mercilessly strike down his enemies.

“I’m sorry, President. I shouldn’t have been checking my phone while working.”

“This isn’t one of Japan’s silly closed room trials. This debate is being broadcast nationwide. We have 100 cameras on us – maybe even 200. They’re watching us from every angle and we can check the footage if you really want us to. But if we discover you never once touched your phone since the debate began, then it’s over for you.”

“…”

The debate was indeed being streamed live to video sites, but the participants were not allowed to bring their own mobile devices with them. The only online information here was the comments from the congress members displayed on the wall. They could not freely search the web or check the online news.

So no matter how much the news was making waves around the world, the Vice President should have had no way of knowing about it.

The President himself only knew because his aide had whispered it to him.

“For that matter, my cute aide confiscated your phone back in the corridor. Or do you carry two, just like a high school girl? Sounds like you’re pretty young at heart, Darris. Now, if you insist you saw it on your phone, pull it out and show it to me. Assuming you actually have one, of course.”

“………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………”

R&C Occultics had thrown money around, set up honeytraps, taken data from phones, and used their PR advisors to plant deep roots around the country. No one knew where they would find a double-crosser.

But now they had their answer.

Roberto Katze shrugged and Darris Hewlane sighed.

Then they both pulled a semiauto shotgun from within their fancy suit.

The stocks extended just like a folding cane or hanger.

They aimed for each other’s vitals at point-blank range and forcibly held the gun with just their dominant hand, the long barrels intersecting between them. It looked more like a fencing match than a Western shootout.

“I don’t know what has you sucking up to that immoral company.”

The US President, the most powerful man in the world, grinned inside his own home.

“But this isn’t just getting yourself involved in some kids’ fight. You’ve gotten your grimy fingers on a peaceful family only so you can tear them apart. I won’t stand for that kind of behavior in my White House, Darris. As commander-in-chief, it’s my job to protect the American people and the world’s future, so I have to admit I’m mighty pissed about this. So how ‘bout a quick duel?”

Roseline Krackhart wanted to die.

She could understand the Vice President sneaking a gun into the White House since he was a traitor. In the sense that she could see an immoral criminal so flagrantly flouting the rules.

The problem was the other man.

The blonde woman forgot what was going on around her and shouted in anger.

“Why in the world did you bring a loaded gun to a charity debate, you presidential dumbass!!!???”

“Did you forget? We live in the land of car chases, sex, and gunfights.”

'''R&C Occultics is the True Culprit Theory

Proposer: Kamijou Touma.

A theory suggesting the ball-jointed doll and the silver-haired brown-skinned woman, who can switch between the roles of pet and owner, are both fakes prepared by R&C Occultics and devastation awaits no matter which one Kamijou chooses. According to this theory, the real Melzabeth is hidden in the sand with the other 30 million people.

That would make the real Melzabeth entirely unrelated to the disappearances.

Also, R&C Occultics’s goal was to frame the real Melzabeth for more and more crimes until she had nowhere left to turn and was forced to become a convenient puppet for CEO Anna Sprengel.

Melzabeth Grocery did not want her Logistic Hornets to be misused, so she planned to feign ignorance and sneak into the R&C Occultics HQ to destroy their massive distribution network with a piece of malware she had written. Her attempt was stopped before it even began, but the fact that she resisted to the very end is speculated to have drawn Anna’s interest.

Anna wanted her specifically because she was so noble and pure of heart.

It may be a desire she cannot abandon no matter how much it contradicts her position as a villain.

This theory has Othinus, the Sisters, and President Roberto Katze’s support.

Stiyl Magnus has also confirmed that Melzabeth cannot read German.

Magician Citrinitas and Vice President Darris Hewlane were both successfully revealed to be villains.

The time has come to fulfill the promise made with a sobbing girl.

The only task left is to defeat a powerful foe. Do that and a happy ending awaits.