Apocalypse Witch:Volume4 Chapter2

Chapter 2

Part 1

Tanba Musubi was a magician with a mastery of Onmyodo.

Magician was the correct term here. The Onmyoji had once been a central part of the country’s government, but their very presence had been erased from the public consciousness, leaving them with no official shrines or temples and no respect of any kind. The lucky directions known as Ehou were originally an Onmyodo concept, but who gave a single thought to that when they saw Ehoumaki sushi at the convenience store?

So no matter how much influence an Onmyoji might retain, they could never be a saint. And if they could not be a saint, there were no religious or moral restrictions requiring them to clear their mind of all worldly desires and only use their abilities for the public good.

(I will bring us back to the center.)

What was wrong with using the world for her own sake?

The world had already used her people and thrown them out.

(The Taira city of Kyou remains the rightful capital. And if I can prove to everyone that we are the center of the world – heh heh – then I am more than willing to chew up Second Grimnoah and spit them out.)

They had once been known as saints.

And now this lonely heart longed for the public to once more recognize the miracles they controlled.

Onmyodo came in many forms, but she specialized in Katatagae. That technique allowed you to accurately determine each day’s new unlucky directions. By avoiding those directions, you could eliminate any danger on the way to your destination. For example, if south was to be avoided, you could zigzag southeast and southwest to avoid ever moving directly south.

And.

Refine that process enough and you could waltz through a minefield just by knowing your unlucky directions.

When you got down to it, Tanba Musubi did not actually view her opponent in battle. By understanding the currents of the world around her, she could avoid any battles before they began and peacefully resolve any problems that did crop up. But she had intentionally thrown all of that out to come here today.

She sought battle.

She felt bad doing this to her opponent. This was a tragedy she could have avoided if she had put in the effort. But she had let it happen.

And once the battle began, she would take all the right steps to reach her destination.

Anyone who stood in her way would be automatically destroyed by the path she chose.

To repeat, Tanba Musubi did not even view her opponent in battle.

(I’ve completed the Ehou reading. I cast a spell to the northeast and south, where Taihakujin and Tenichijin are located, I have cut off all evil omens from reaching me. Now I need to lure my prey into the slight opening I left to the west-southwest to plunge them into deadly misfortune. I know all the unlucky directions for this date and the labyrinth has been formed. By avoiding those directions and walking accurately across the board, I can win as easily as following a guide to a tsume shogi problem.)

“Heh heh. I may have overdone it.”

“Ouch, that has gotta hurt!! The horned shrine maiden Onmyoji, Tanba Musubi, was brought down to the mat by the very first blow, but Alchemist Tribikos Yorkshire is not letting up. Do those kanji-filled directional calculations not work right with all those shooting stars and down this far south where the Big Dipper isn’t in the center of the sky? And wow, this is why you don’t want to get on the wrong side of a woman!! To be clear, this is being livestreamed around the world. Hey, sexy blondie, did you not notice the first blow already had her convulsing on the mat!? You aren’t changing the odds by continuing to hit her in the face. Don’t mount your opponent and beat her until her blood splatters back on you!! Keep that kind of thing in the bathroom or break room where no one can see you!!!!!”

Part 2

The bed creaked and shook a little.

Then something felt wrong near his eyelids.

“Sacri-sama.”

A familiar voice reached Karuta’s ear, but his mind could not figure out what was going on.

“Sacri-sama, it is morning. You need to wake up.”

“Nh, huh?”

He tried to shake his oddly heavy head.

When he finally opened his eyes, he found Aine’s face unusually close by. Her silver hair was hanging down and tickling his cheeks. She appeared to have crawled up onto his bed like a puppy begging to play on a weekend morning.

Her breath was sweet. Despite her favorite food being pure gold.

“Good morning, Sacri-sama.”

“I had the second-to-last match yesterday, so if they follow the tournament bracket, my match today should be in the latter half – so in the afternoon. I still have time, so just let me get some more sleep.”

“Sleep would be useful, but that thing is buzzing. It refuses to stop.”

Crawling Aine pointed to where his phone was charging on the bedside table.

“That can’t be good.”

“Agreed. But doesn’t it mean things are already underway?”

He sighed and grabbed his phone without getting up.

He had received a short message.

“Stardust (for tournament staff only): The match order has been changed. Mr. Utagai, please report to the contestant waiting room. Your match will begin soon.”

After a moment, he clicked his tongue, left the messaging app, and made an actual phone call.

But not to the tournament staff.

“Hello, hello, hello! This is Cinderella Queen’s work phone. What do you need?”

“You have a private and a work phone, Delane? Anyway, what is going on? I was sure my match would be in the afternoon. Have all the other matches ended almost immediately or something?”

“Oh, that. No, this is purely a show business thing.”

Cinderella Queen’s light tone made him wonder if she was really aware his life was on the line here.

“As I’m sure you are aware, Karuta, the majority of the focus on the tournament is centered on you. Some want to see you win and others want to see you suffer a humiliating defeat. So we can’t let people think your matches will always be in the afternoon. Then no one would bother watching the morning ones, right?”

“…”

“So who fights who is still following the original bracket, but we’ve shuffled around when your matches will be. That way the audience can’t let their guard down for a second. Now, this is a gamble for us too. We’re using up your valuable match in the morning. But if we didn’t do that, it would only spread the impression that we’re going through the boring matches in the morning. We need to make this risky move to keep everyone on their toes☆”

This was more bad news for Karuta.

Without much time before his match, he wouldn’t be able to gather much information on his opponent.

(Damn. How much were the string pullers involved in this decision? The problem is this could be exactly what Delane says it is – no conspiracy required.)

“Anyway, give us another good fight today. Whether you survive or die on the mat, make sure you put on a real show to give me lots and lots of viewers.”

“Which match is mine?”

“Round 2 Match 2.”

“Oh, hell. That’s the very next one!!”

He hung up and got out of bed. He would only have time to shower and change, not even to eat breakfast.

“What should I do?” asked Aine.

“For now, give me whatever information you have on my opponent and then continue gathering more! This isn’t like before! All of the contestants fought in Round 1, so that analysis should be a lot easier!!”

He spoke quickly while grabbing a notepad from the bedside table and jotting down a quick list with a ballpoint pen.

• Basic data, such as opponent’s name, sex, age, height, and weight

• Background information, such as education level, religion, occupation, and combat experience

• Any martial arts, magic, etc. they specialize in

• What kind of equipment they will have with them and what kind of magic it uses

“Listen, Aine. We don’t have time for you to investigate everything, so focus on getting me just these things for now.”

“Understood. But I cannot guarantee I can find all of this on such short notice.”

“?”

That was unusually vague for cold and mechanical Aine.

Unlike the first round, they would have match footage for everyone this time. This was an international tournament being viewed the world over. Just by pausing that and viewing it in slow motion, they would be able to gather so much more information so much faster than before. (Of course, Karuta’s opponent could analyze him in the same way.)

“We have no footage to use.”

He wasn’t sure what she could mean by that.

He grabbed his phone again.

“Hold on. But this year’s Catastrophe is being streamed worldwide! And there are more than a million spectator drones flying around!! How in the world could there be no footage to analyze!?”

Aine did not tilt her head.

That told him this was not even a mystery to her.

“According to Miss Kyouka, that global livestreaming is in fact the problem. The broadcaster that spent so much money for the broadcast rights cannot have phone and drone footage spreading freely across the internet, so special protections have been added to the remote audience’s viewing data. They can watch it real-time, but they cannot save or upload the footage, meaning none of it can be found on ordinary video sites.”

“But what about the broadcaster’s site? We can just use the officially released-!!”

“They have been having server trouble since last night,” answered Aine before he was even done with his question.

Refusing to believe this, he tapped at his phone several times, but it was true. He could open the official site’s top page, but he would either get an error message or nothing at all when he tried to go any deeper. Searching for and playing those high-quality videos was completely out of the question.

“They claim to have underestimated the traffic they would receive as the only global source, but the truth of the matter is unknown. Miss Kyouka said it might be a DDoS attack disguised as no more than heavy traffic.”

Karuta held a hand to his forehead.

Another bad coincidence. But it wasn’t enough to prove the human string pullers were behind this or to track them down. He wanted to suspect every new thing that happened, but if he took that too far, he would succumb to paranoia. Which was exactly what the string pullers wanted.

Some of his classmates might have seen the previous day’s matches, but he had no time. If he couldn’t directly ask his friends, any information would be at least thirdhand: Classmate -> Aine -> Karuta. Could he really get accurate information through that game of telephone? Thinking he knew the answer could only end badly. In a deadly battle where mere moments could be the difference between life and death, an inaccurate idea could lead directly to his death.

With information of dubious accuracy, he would have no idea what was useful and what was a landmine. That would only get him killed.

Even if his classmates were legitimately trying to help.

(So malice isn’t all I have to watch out for. What a pain.)

He sighed.

“Then we’ll just have to deal with it. Aine, go out and directly gather whatever information you can find for that list I gave you. Knowing what exactly it is we don’t know is a useful strategy too. If I only have one or two blanks left, I can focus on getting those things out of them during the match.”

“That I can do,” said Aine. “Athabaskan Rio Grande. Age: 27. Sex: male. According to Miss Kyouka’s official paperwork, he is registered as a Native American shaman.”

“So the people famous for their tomahawks and gunstock war clubs? I can’t really picture what kind of martial arts someone like that would use. But if they have their own unique weapons, they must have their own ways of using them.”

“Correct. Although your conception appears to be drawn from all across North America. But you need to focus on the occult, not the martial arts. That means his native magic. He apparently uses totem curses, but the details are unknown. I will focus on that in my continued investigation.”

“Got it. Then I’ll just have to fill in the rest of the blanks in the ring.”

Kyouka had the paperwork, but he was short on time. He couldn’t read through a stack of papers thicker than the phonebook at this point.

Once he met this man in the ring, he would be able to see his basic physical attributes and what equipment he had. And Aine had announced she would look into the magical details. It scared Karuta to not know how big or muscular this man was, but he really needed to focus on any secret martial arts.

“I don’t have time for breakfast, but I should still take a shower since I’ll be on camera. …Wait, where’s my towel?”

“In here.”

“Wait, Aine- gwah! Wh-why are you crawling inside me!?”

He shouted, but the crystal girl had already bent over at the hips and stuck her head into him near the navel. After some rummaging around, she pulled out a large towel. Karuta and Aine were linked. Technically speaking, she was the crystal armor that emerged from within a crystal magician’s body, but she had lately started using the space inside him as a second room for herself.

Trying to explain why this bothered him was meaningless since she wasn’t human, so he sighed, accepted the towel, and walked to the bathroom.

He didn’t have time to fill the tub, so he took a hot shower instead. And then it occurred to him.

“Wait. Aine, why did you have my towel? Isn’t that space inside me where you go for privacy?”

He heard an odd crashing sound beyond the door.

This was unusual. Had Miss Unbeatable Swordswoman tripped and fallen?

“Um, Aine?”

“Nothing is wrong. I am not flustered. Everything is perfectly normal.”

She stopped him from asking anything, so he responded while massaging his shampoo-covered head with his palms.

“Well, as long as you weren’t sleeping with it wrapped around you or something. Not that you would do that. You’re not a kitten that can’t sleep without curling up inside some clothing covered in its master’s scent.”

He heard an even louder crash from beyond the door.

“???”

He went to the effort of using conditioner, quickly dried his hair with the hairdryer, and donned his sports shirt and short-sleeved dress shirt.

He left the bathroom to find Aine inexplicably down on all fours with her small butt sticking out toward him and her head looking back at him over her shoulder.

If he didn’t know better, he would have thought she was trembling with tears in the corners of her eyes and a flush in her cheeks.

“Sacri-sama,” said the crystal girl in her mechanical way. “I have heard human culture includes a process known as confession.”

“Sorry, but I don’t have time for that. And I’m not a priest, so I don’t know how it’s done.”

Karuta checked the remaining battery and the heft of his modified military flashlight before sticking it in his pocket to finish his preparations. Aine slowly stood up, straightened her back, and lowered her head in an impeccable bow.

“Take care.”

“I will. But don’t forget one thing,” he replied while they left his dorm room. “Someone out there is using this tournament to get at us. They must have set things up to get me killed in the ring, so don’t assume you’re safe just because you aren’t in the ring too. In fact, those behind-the-scenes areas are their hunting ground. Same as us.”

He parted ways with the crystal girl.

They each had their own battles to fight.

They were not alone by any means, but they could not immediately come to the other’s rescue if anything happened.

If he hoped to survive the day, he had to fight for himself.

(Now, back to that cell of a waiting room.)

“Ah!”

He heard a quiet shriek when he turned a corner after avoiding the school’s rock band carrying their instruments.

He had nearly run into someone coming the other way.

“S-s-s-sorry! Huh!? Are you Utagai Karuta!!!???”

“Hello. You do know visitors aren’t allowed in this area, don’t you?”

He reflexively switched over to his public mode.

He did not recognize this small girl. She wore her black hair in a bob cut and she was dressed in a light green – maybe even a yellowish-green – kimono. She was even shorter than Aine and he wasn’t sure if she always wore a kimono or if she was dressed up for a special occasion. Either way, that had to be hot in this equatorial region where most girls had their tanned midriffs showing. The hat on her head was the only thing she had to fight the sun.

She had some tears in her eyes as she explained why she was here.

“Um, I was looking for my sister, but I’ve never been on such a confusing ship before. You said I’m not allowed here, but where is here exactly?”

“I see. Then follow me. But next time you get lost, just ask a tournament staff or a teacher for help. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Letnahe soon arrived after hearing the commotion, so he left the girl with her (since she was technically a teacher).

And the gym teacher whispered to him so the kimono girl couldn’t hear.

“(Are you sure you can do this? You don’t look very prepared.)”

“(I’ll make it work. Because I’m dead if I don’t.)”

That was all he said before continuing on to the contestant waiting room.

With the sunlight pouring down on the broad deck, the whole place looked inappropriately bright. A metal container sat there. That was the temporary room that would carry him to the cage of death. He opened the double doors, stepped inside, and locked it from the inside, blocking his view of anything outside.

He sat in the chair bolted to the floor.

The order of the matches had been shuffled around, so he had not had any time for investigation. He had to go into his fight against Athabaskan Rio Grande, a specialist in Native American curses, very nearly blind.

(I can do this.)

He felt his balance shift.

The tiltrotor must have lifted the container with a thick wire.

(Remember how cheap and underhanded you can be. Reinstall your identity as the boy who will swallow mud if it gets him what he wants. After going through hell to reach this point, I’m not going to let anything else defeat me now.)

He felt a low tremor below his feet. He had arrived. A cold announcement came over the speaker installed on the wall.

“Your match will begin shortly. Mr. Utagai, please step out into the ring.”

“…”

He stood up from the chair and walked to the double doors.

His second deadly match was about to begin.

He opened the door to see the blue sky, cumulonimbus clouds, and the scorching sunshine.

Cheerleaders and drink sellers in swimsuits were located here and there in the stands.

This morning match felt wrong in a different way from the yesterday’s afternoon one. Karuta grimaced at the deluge of light and sound that hit him, but then an even louder boom came from the gondola supported by a crane.

“Once again, I, Cinderella Queen, will be providing the commentary☆ I’m showing off my super-cute nurse costume today, so if you get a limb blown off, I’ll make sure to kiss it and make it better! And without further ado, I’ll introduce you to Round 2 Match 2’s contestants.”

The child commentator with bluish-silver hair was being her usual edgy self.

She directed the crowd’s attention toward Karuta first.

“First up, we have one of the Four Living Gods – the guy willing to play dirty to cling to his position as the world’s strongest! Now, which is louder – the voices calling for him to win, or the ones calling for him to go down? He’s one of the world’s cutting edge crystal magicians – it’s Utagaaai Kaarutaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!”

Cinderella Queen must have been responding to popular demand based on an analysis of the many comments posted on the official streaming site (perhaps from people who had lost their bets in the first round) because she was being a lot harsher than yesterday.

But none of it actually got through to Karuta. Because he had something much more horrifying in front of him. Even he could tell his pupils were narrowing down.

(Oh, damn.)

“Next, we have the man who conquered his first deadly battle by becoming the ultimate weapon. This Native American crossed the deserts of North America to make it here today and his totem curses can bend nature’s power to his will, but is that really enough to defeat the highly artificial crystal magic?”

(Really? That’s what we’re doing here!?)

“This charming modern mercenary is rocking a thick bulletproof vest and a mobility-boosting leg powered suit with a 12-gauge shotgun accessory that really brings the ensemble together. It’s Athabaskaaaaaan Rio Grandeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!”

Karuta heard the unique metallic sound of a firearm.

He had to play the role of the strongest to avoid a global explosion of social unrest, so he could not escape this ring. He gulped as silently as possible and lifted the detonating cord ropes to climb into the ring. Then the poles in the corners glowed red to announce the explosives were switched on. The deadly cage had been shut behind him.

Athabaskan Rio Grande.

The muscular black-haired man had to be at least 180cm tall. He looked like a mass of muscles roughly carved from heavy stone.

Plus, that body was protected by a cutting-edge black bulletproof vest with plenty of belts and pouches holding spare ammo and grenades. He even wore machines on his legs to mechanically boost their abilities.

He was a Native American.

He used totem curses.

Karuta had been misled by that information. Whoever his opponents were and whatever magic they might use, they were still residents of the modern world. That meant they could use everything human civilization had developed.

That pitch black shotgun made of a special alloy and plastic looked far too sinister in a ring of only 20m. And if Cinderella Queen hadn’t just made it up to make things sound more exciting, then it was a 12 gauge. That was the ultimate weapon found in zombie movies. A direct hit from that at close range would tear his torso in two without even giving him a chance to regenerate.

“Oh, hey,” continued Cinderella Queen. “What’s this it says the shotgun is loaded with? Triple aught f- oh, that’s a ‘b’. Boring.”

“Triple aught buck refers to the size of the shot used,” explained Kyouka. “This is the largest, not counting slugs, so Utagai needs to be careful if he wants to avoid being filled with holes.”

Karuta’s only weapon was the flashlight he could use as a club. With some exceptions like Aine or Marika, seeing and then blocking a bullet flying at supersonic speeds would require a miracle (in the sense that it would require dumb luck). With a shotgun that sent out a shower of deadly pellets, it was wholly impossible. He could not hope to defend himself.

Plus, that was not just a shotgun.

It was the trigger to activate some more powerful magic, just like a witch’s wand or crystal ball.

The man’s goggles had a feather decoration drawn on the side and his leg powered suit had a distinctive tattoo pattern drawn on it. Those things felt out of place to Karuta, but Athabaskan had managed to perfectly bring together tradition and technology.

Karuta tried his best to keep the tremor out of his voice.

“Well, I can’t exactly complain about this. We protect ourselves with crystal armor and use that to fly. Weapons and enhancements are nothing new.”

“…”

(Are you kidding me? He isn’t just holding his tongue – he isn’t blinking and his breathing is perfectly steady. This is bad. Really bad! This guy’s a real pro. Provoking him isn’t going to get anything out of him!!)

Karuta worked to keep his panic from showing.

The president spoke from the commentator’s booth with Delane.

“Anyone who analyzed the first round will know that attacking ahead of the bell isn’t enough to take down Utagai Karuta, so I’m curious to see what Athabaskan Rio Grande has planned. And of course, dealing with that shotgun will be Utagai’s first order of business. But if he focuses too much on that, the magic will do him in.”

“I see. So both contestants have a problem to solve here. And simple problems like this are the best because the audience can follow what’s happening! Now, let’s ring that bell. Oh, and Karuta? No attacking ahead of the bell. This is my time to shine, so I don’t want some filthy guy getting in the way!!”

They stood in the center of the ring.

They were only 5m apart.

That was basically right in front of each other with a pump-action shotgun. A shotgun fired several shots in a trumpet-like spread, so it was much more powerful at close range. This close, he would probably be torn apart even if he had specialized bulletproof gear.

“Now, let’s get Round 2 Match 2 started. All together now!! Three, two, oooone!!”

Unbeknownst to the audience, Karuta’s heart was hammering in his chest.

If he was being honest, he had not at all anticipated a shotgun. He had no plan at all!!

“Fight!!”

Did the metal gong sound even reach Karuta’s ears?

His opponent did not immediately fire his shotgun. Instead, he threw a metal can larger than a shotgun shell. More the size of an energy drink can.

(A grenade!?)

Karuta’s throat went dry.

His only chance was to knock the thing outside the ring with his flashlight.

He readied himself, but the grenade bounced off the mat weirdly.

A metal can was not a perfectly round ball.

“Geh!”

White smoke burst from it.

Tobacco played an important role in Native American rituals. They excelled in using all sorts of herbs.

“A smoke grenade!?” protested Delane. “But now we can’t see!! Do you have any idea how valuable these broadcast rights are, Athabaskan!!!???”

There was no way this would end with only a smokescreen.

The Native American warrior worked as a mercenary and he was holding a powerful shotgun. He was bound to aim for Karuta through the smoke. His own smoke kept him from aiming accurately, but if he fired in the general direction of the vague silhouette he could see, he could still fatally wound Karuta.

Karuta felt the terror of being unable to see while a gunshot could come at any moment.

He started to get down on the mat, but then a voice inside him whispered in his mind.

Can you really risk your own life and the fate of the world you saved on something as unreliable as common sense?

“!?”

He broke free of his instincts and stopped himself from dropping to the mat on reflex.

An explosion immediately followed, but he felt no pain.

He had jumped to the side, but that hadn’t really mattered.

Athabaskan had aimed down at the mat and fired. That had prevented the shot from spreading and gouged a large hole in the soft mat.

If Karuta had followed his common sense – the least trustworthy thing in this garbage world – and gotten down on the mat, that would have blasted his head off or torn through his chest.

Doing things the sensible way would get him killed. The “comment sense” result of this matchup was his death, so he had to try something else if he hoped to survive.

His heart was running wild in his chest.

Athabaskan Rio Grande broke through his own white smokescreen to charge toward his opponent.

Karuta could follow the man’s movements with his eyes, but a high schooler’s reflexes were not enough for his arms and legs to keep up.

He had experienced this same thing while sparring against a professional solider like Letnahe Kurent. The man attempted to press the black glistening pump-action shotgun’s muzzle against the bottom of Karuta’s chin. Smoothly knocking the barrel aside with his flashlight and shining the powerful laser in the man’s eyes was beyond Karuta’s abilities. His body could not keep up with moves straight out of an action movie!!

He was supposed to focus on his opponent’s defenses instead of his own attacks, making sure he always had two options at any one moment. That was how a professional ensured they could hit and silence their opponent. He understood all that intellectually, but there was only so much his body could do while he felt frozen in time like this.

So he only had one option left.

“Ohhh!!”

Without hesitation, he placed his palm over the shotgun’s muzzle and grasped it tight.

An explosion followed.

Athabaskan had pulled the trigger and the shotgun had shattered Karuta’s thin barrier and blasted his left hand into smithereens. Each of his fingers flew through the air, disturbingly intact while they crystallized.

But.

With his hand in the way, the shot had failed to destroy his skull. Tearing through his flesh and bouncing off his bone had shifted the distribution of the shot just enough. He clenched his teeth at the burning pain while his woozy mind confirmed that he had in fact survived.

The crowd screamed at the grotesque scene, but he did not.

His wound was already crystallizing.

(30 seconds!! Then I’ll have my hand back!!)

Shotguns had a lot of recoil. Not even the professional mercenary could suppress the impact sent back into his shoulder, so there was a lag of less than a second before he could slide the forend below the barrel and load the next round.

Karuta did not have time to sit around and think through it all.

He slammed his forehead into his opponent’s nose.

He poured all of his strength into the attack. Or he thought he had. But Athabaskan did not even lose his balance, much less go down.

This man was trained in a way Karuta simply wasn’t.

(He held his ground?)

But that long shotgun was not suited for such close quarters, so the mercenary swept Karuta’s legs out from under him to knock him down. Karuta could not land properly when he was missing one hand and held a flashlight in the other.

Athabaskan pinned Karuta down with a foot on his gut, pulled back the forend to expel the empty cartridge from the side, and aimed the shotgun straight down at the boy’s face. The professional stayed true to his tactics.

“!!”

Karuta shined his blinding laser up along the shotgun’s sight and twisted his body with all his might. When the man shook his head to get the powerful IR beam out of his eyes, his weight shifted enough to release some of the force on Karuta’s stomach.

Karuta rolled to the side at the exact moment the shotgun went off.

The point-blank blast was powerful, but that also meant the shot hit the floor and stopped before it could spread out. Karuta should have escaped outside the deadly blast’s range by then.

But he felt burning pain across his entire right half.

The floor had exploded at the center of the shotgun blast. This was not just a secondary effect like the mat material being sent outwards by the shotgun’s destructive force. The explosion came with bluish-white flames. It was clearly some form of attack.

Karuta kept rolling and protected his left hand. His regeneration could heal any wound, but if the crystal was shattered before then, that part would never heal. He was a step away from disaster here.

“Gahhh!?”

“Oh, was that some kind of magic?” asked Delane. “Or was it a modern weapon?”

“I believe it was magic. Since it is activated by a gunshot, it must be single use. He uses a totem for his curses, which in Japanese terms is something like your clan’s ancestors or your clan’s guardian spirit.”

“Hey, uh, I’m not Japanese, you know? But do you mean totem as in a totem pole?”

“Yes. They tend to depict wild animals like wolves, bears, buffalos, or eagles, but some native groups use totems depicting phenomena or objects, such as a stomachache or flowers. That means a totem that causes explosions is perfectly plausible. Maybe it represents a volcanic eruption?”

His entire right side felt stiff.

Protecting his left hand was the least of his worries now. His body was covered in crystals.

He managed to put some distance between them and stood up on unsteady legs, but then he noticed a flashing light out of the corner of his eye. That was a signal from Aine or Marika in the stands.

He converted the flashing light into Japanese.

(Progress report: Athabaskan uses his shotgun shells as totem poles to construct his magic.)

Unlike a normal handgun or assault rifle, Karuta had heard shotgun ammo was lined up inside a tube below the barrel. And lined up like that, they would indeed create something like a pole.

(He draws on the magical power of the symbols carved into the side of the shells, allowing him to-)

“50m SSW. Floor 3 Zone B3.”

“!?”

Without warning, the Native American mercenary’s lips moved while he slowly readied his pump-action shotgun.

“And 45m NE. Floor 3 Zone C8. I can see your hidden troops. And for a professional warfighter, a handgun has a range of 180m. This qualifies as close range.”

(Aine is pretty obvious, but Marika is the laser sniping specialist who shot Elicia in the head. But I only know that because I’m her childhood friend. How did he see through her at first sight like that!?)

The shotgun barrel rose up a few meters away.

The promised 30 seconds arrived at the same time.

Once his left hand was back to normal, he swung his arm horizontally. The unneeded crystal shards flew out in an expanding cloud to blind Athabaskan.

He still pulled the trigger, but needing to turn his head to protect his eyes threw off his aim. While the storm of hot metal tore through the air, Karuta clenched his teeth, ducked low, and charged toward the man.

Athabaskan pulled the forend back. For some reason, he did it twice, ejecting an unused shotgun shell to the floor.

The mercenary’s solid footwork was exactly what Karuta had hoped for. He spread his left hand and jabbed it against the man’s thigh. Specifically, into the joint of the powered suit that enhanced his leg strength.

With a horrific grinding and cracking sound, Karuta’s fingers were crushed like they were caught in the hinge of a heavy metal door.

He only had to bear with the pain and he could drive a wedge into the machine’s joint.

With the crystallized fingers keeping the one leg from moving, Athabaskan placed his weight on his other leg. That was when Karuta slammed his flashlight against it with his right hand. The horizontal blow to the ankle sent the mercenary’s leg sliding out from under him.

Another shot.

The shotgun went off, but an accidental shot while falling was not going to hit Karuta.

They both collapsed to the mat and began grappling.

Athabaskan’s shotgun was shocking, but since his totem pole was created from the totem shells contained within the gun, he could not freely mix and match the symbols on the fly. If he misread the situation, he had to slide the forend to eject the unneeded shell and move on to the next arrangement.

Karuta’s objective was to remove the shotgun from the battle. Whatever was in the tube, the man couldn’t use his magic if he lost the gun itself.

Karuta’s rational side swiftly reached that conclusion, but the rest of him noticed something else. He saw the glint of something other than a grenade on the equipment belt strapped across Athabaskan’s chest.

It was pink and shaped like a small egg.

(A child’s…emergency buzzer?)

That had no business being on a professional mercenary whose life depended on his camouflage.

A moment later, a totem explosion caught Karuta by surprise.

And this one did not even come from the shotgun.

Part 3

Karuta’s vision blinked in and out.

He could just barely grasp that a large chunk had been taken out of his back.

But this blast had not had anything to do with the movements of Athabaskan’s shotgun. His barrier didn’t matter in the slightest here. The explosion had been on the level of carelessly rolling onto a landmine while grappling with the man.

(Oh…I get it.)

Athabaskan’s magic was determined by the symbol or pattern carved into the side of his shotgun shells.

“You never needed to fire them. The unused rounds lying on the floor were still live. You weren’t pulling the forend to get rid of shells because you had misread the situation. You were scattering them around to create a minefield.”

“So what if I was?”

“But getting that shotgun from you is still my top priority!!” shouted Karuta.

Still curled up, he threw his heavy flashlight.

The powered suit would still be malfunctioning thanks to the translucent fingers jammed in one of the thigh joints. He normally would have avoided an amateur’s throw, but it managed to hit this time.

The shotgun thudded to the floor.

The blood rushed to Karuta’s head.

It was now a race for that weapon.

He could not use the totem magic even if he did grab it, but it would still mean a lot to steal that powerful weapon away from his opponent.

He crouched low and kicked off the floor, but something felt wrong. Yes, Athabaskan Rio Grande was not joining in. He ignored the pump-action shotgun on the floor and instead stepped back away from Karuta as the boy dove onto the mat.

The totem magic did not require firing the shotgun shells, but the shells on the floor were all visible. Without the fear of the shotgun to keep Karuta moving, he would never step on one of those mines. So why?

“I was waiting for this positioning,” said the man.

Machinegun fire poured from the sky.

A weaving trail of destruction passed over Karuta’s leg while he lay face down with the shotgun in his grasp.

He was twisted around and thrown through the air. His right leg was severed at the thigh like it had been lying on the track when the train came through and it bounced several times.

The loud cheers shaking the tournament site must have been those who had bet on Athabaskan like this was a horse race.

Those were not ordinary bullets. They clearly had some kind of magical effect because they continued to glow orange and emit black smoke even after embedding themselves deep in the mat.

(Oww!? I’m all right. Think of it as saving you the trouble of stopping the bleeding!!)

He rolled onto his back, leaving the crystallized leg behind, and looked into the sky, but there was nothing there. But he knew something had to be flying by too high up to be visible with the naked eye.

“Wha-?”

Even Cinderella Queen was at a loss for words.

What had happened? The answer was right there; he had just failed to notice it.

But he should have expected this. He was up against a professional mercenary decked out with the latest tech. And the man had located Aine and Marika with the naked eye.

“A ground attack drone!?” shouted Delane. “Is this how a professional soldier fights, Athabaskan Rio Grande!?”

“If it’s supposed to be a Native eagle symbol, is it meant to be a sort of flint shirt? But any device used for a contestant’s magic, like a witch’s broom or cauldron, is allowed by the rules. He mentioned a positioning earlier. Was he talking about Second Grimnoah moving outside the western alliance’s air-defense region – in other words, into international waters? Still, that thing is dangerous indeed when combined with stealth magic like this. Our defense ships didn’t even notice it.”

Perspective was a problem here. When anti-terrorism bomber drones gained enough altitude, they became invisible to the naked eye on the surface.

But they could still target you down on the ground.

Would this drone fire its machinegun again or would it blow Karuta away with an even more dangerous air-to-surface missile?

Karuta had gained the pump-action shotgun at the cost of his leg, but he could not shoot down the drone with it. He could emit a powerful IR laser with his flashlight, but he would need the exact specs to know if the air-to-surface missile was guided exclusively by IR. If it also used UV, microwave, ultrasound, or image processing, his flashlight would fail to interfere with its guidance and he was a goner.

He saw a light flashing in the corner of his eye.

The crystal girl was contacting him because she still trusted he could win.

He clenched his teeth and pulled back the forend below the shotgun’s barrel, ejecting the loaded shell. What could he do with it now?

“Real wars are determined before the boots are even on the ground. That is an Air RQ43-A Man Eagle. This model is loaded with a GPS ASM 55 Resin Arrowhead precision-guided air-to-surface missile designed for assassination missions. I will use everything at my disposal and I will accept no complaints. If you were unaware I had this, blame your own intel gathering failure.”

The Native American man reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone in a military bulletproof case.

He could rain down death with a tap of his finger.

“You came unprepared and so you lose, Utagai Karuta.”

Part 4

He waited.

He waited and eventually gulped.

But the person unable to bear the silence and stillness was not Utagai Karuta.

“Wh-what’s happening here?” Cinderella Queen sounded rattled in her crane-supported gondola. She kept looking back and forth between the ring and the sky overhead. “Wasn’t he bombing Utagai into tiny little pieces? Is he having technical difficulties?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Athabaskan Rio Grande clenched his teeth.

He could supposedly obliterate Karuta with a tap of his finger, but he did not do so.

No, he couldn’t do so.

“Damn you.”

“You use totemism.” Utagai Karuta spoke clearly without letting go of the outdated shotgun. Of course, all of this information came from Aine’s flashing light, not anything he had investigated himself. “That magic uses your clan’s ancestors or guardian spirit, but the effect is influenced by the animal, plant, natural phenomenon, or situation you depict. Simply put, worship a crocodile and you get a crocodile’s power. In that sense, you’re a really powerful magician if you can freely rearrange your totem on the fly. But,” whispered Karuta, to overturn all of that. “That is why your magic has so many restrictions. You’re required to treat your totem with care. For example, if a tribe adopts the crocodile as their totem animal, then they aren’t allowed to kill crocodiles.”

That was the basic rule and true essence of totemism. Basically, it was a magical barter system where they placed restrictions on themselves in exchange for great power. Thus, changing your totem mid-battle also let you swap out your weakness.

“You use the plants and animals carved into the shotgun shells to activate your magic. And you can even use natural phenomena and situations like a tornado or volcanic eruption. By storing those shells in the shotgun, they become your totem pole.”

That gave Karuta an opening.

He was a hair’s breadth away from death, but he had the shotgun, the still usable shells were scattered around as traps, and the crystal shards from his own healed injuries were enough to carve something into their metal surface.

“It didn’t have to be an artistic masterpiece. I only had to overwrite the original symbol with a quick stick figure.”

Because…

“Humans are an animal too. That shell now bears a symbol representing Utagai Karuta and you can’t harm your own totem. No matter what.”

A high-pitched cracking indicated enough time had passed for Karuta’s right side and leg to be fully healed.

That meant Athabaskan Rio Grande had failed to do anything during that time. He had to have a vast repertoire of methods that could kill an amateur high schooler, but all he could do was wait.

Utagai Karuta raised his voice with the shotgun in hand.

“Delane.”

“Um, yes!? What do you need, Karuta?”

“I have a rules question. Can contestants forfeit their match?”

“Nope. The match continues until one or the other loses consciousness.”

“You heard the little lady.”

Karuta smiled dryly.

And he slowly approached Athabaskan.

The mercenary was helpless. He could not do anything that would kill his totem animal. So from this point on, it was a one-sided game for Utagai Karuta.

The world’s strongest held the pump-action shotgun – a blunt weapon heavier than the average shovel – and raised it in both hands while focusing on the solid stock.

“Sorry, but you did try to blow me away in a drone strike.”

He swung the shotgun down with all his might.

Right into the man’s nose.

Part 5

One hit.

The large mercenary’s head wobbled backwards.

His consciousness faded.

He worked as a mercenary, so he had been prepared for his life to meet a sudden end at some point. He had known that all too well, so Athabaskan Rio Grande had not been bound by a fear of death.

A second hit.

But.

For some reason, he would not pass out.

Something other than his death made him reluctant to give up.

He heard a sound in the back of his mind, like a ringing in his ear.

It was a voice.

A girl’s voice.

“You can’t do it.”

The last of the Problem Solvers had apparently been defeated in America.

And the Four Living Gods were all Japanese. This new era unavoidably reduced America’s presence in the world. And he had wanted to preserve the value of his country.

So he had wanted to defeat a world’s strongest. Just one would do.

Anyone could use a phone or computer. The world of guns and tanks had been one of entrenched power, but the field of robotics still had room for newcomers. So he had started from there. The flying drone weapon and the powered suit to boost leg strength were both technologies that could be used to enrich people’s lives, but he had redefined them as a means to fight.

He had used them to bring himself victory.

And yet.

“You can never be the strongest.”

The third hit produced a different sound.

Utagai Karuta’s aim had unintentionally drifted.

The shotgun stock meant for the man’s face had instead swung down toward his chest. It was going to break the emergency buzzer he had been given.

Athabaskan Rio Grande refused to relinquish his consciousness and instead bit firmly at the shotgun swung down toward his face.

He could not die.

Not when he had yet to accomplish anything.

He could not give up before truly challenging his foe. He could not even consider going down in a blaze of glory. He had to grasp at victory, no matter how ugly it was. He had to reclaim the glory of the world’s strongest.

Because he knew that was enough to save some people.

Like the person who had given him this because she was worried about a mere mercenary who had sold his own life as a commercial tool.

So.

To accomplish that…

(Not…yet.)

The unpleasant grinding and cracking sounds would not stop.

It meant sacrificing his own teeth and filling his mouth with blood, but that Native American mercenary managed to bite and destroy the shotgun made of plastic and special alloy.

(My arms and legs can still move. I might be bound by my magic, but I still have my life. So I can still fight!!!!!!)

The shotgun shells spilled from the tube.

If the shells contained in the shotgun functioned as his totem, then he could break that bond by destroying the shotgun!!

Part 6

Utagai Karuta was faced with something that defied all common sense.

(This thing is made of special alloy and plastic.)

The shotgun’s broken pieces and ammo spilled out and fell to the floor. The unsteady mercenary kicked the shells to the side, triggering them along with the detonating cord rope. He used brute force to destroy the absolute protection Utagai Karuta had gained from the system that prevented him from killing the totem animal from which he drew his power.

(He bit through that with human teeth to break free of the totem pole? He’s not even using some native tobacco or herbs. This is pure willpower and strength. Has he entered the zone, letting him ignore his sense of pain!?)

Karuta was unaware that there were exceptions where a totem animal could be killed during special festivals and rituals.

Karuta had been taught to always have two methods of attack at any given time to ensure that he always had a valid option. But what if that wasn’t enough to stop his opponent? Athabaskan did not live in the world of street fights; he was a professional mercenary.

Letnahe had told him he would immediately be put on the defensive in a situation like this.

“Gahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!”

“Gahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!”

Karuta wondered if Athabaskan was using the power of the eagle, the wolf, the crocodile, or the serpent in that moment, but none of those was right.

This was the power of the human.

The mercenary’s eyes carried the glint of rational thought.

Karuta had no idea what even happened. He tried to send his own fist out while the large man’s fist flew toward him, but the next thing he knew, he was spinning around and his right arm was behind his back in a joint lock. A bent knee pressed against the center of his back. If the man put his full weight there, Karuta would be smashed face-first into the hard floor. His thin barrier would do nothing to protect him. With both their body weights behind it, he wouldn’t just be knocked out – his skull would split open and he would die.

This was what happened when a high schooler tried to take on a professional mercenary.

There was an insurmountable wall between them.

A professional attack filled the target with the fear of knowing there was no escape.

But Utagai Karuta did have one trick up his sleeve: crystal magic.

(I can heal any nonlethal wound in 30 seconds!!)

He actually twisted his body to apply even more pressure to the joints, destroying his right shoulder and elbow simultaneously. The pain was 100 times worse than having his back teeth grinded down with a metal file, but he could move again.

“!!!???”

He turned around with his joints bending wrong and found Athabaskan’s defenseless face in front of him.

And his jaw.

Karuta gathered the rest of his strength and swung his left fist into it.

“I…”

But the Native American mercenary was not shaken.

He remained on his feet and spoke clearly.

“I only wanted magic…that could do things crystal magic couldn’t do…that no one else could do…”

The boy sensed that the man had refused to lose until he got that message across to someone.

“Yeah.”

Utagai Karuta wanted to prevent chaos from spreading across the globe.

But that did not mean he was allowed to trample someone’s heart.

“I assure you as the world’s strongest that you accomplished something I can’t do.”

And like a thread had snapped, Athabaskan Rio Grande slowly collapsed backwards.

Part 7

“Delane here! Your beloved Cinderella Queen is about to give you the afternoon forecast during our lunch break. But doing that the normal way would be pretty boring, right? Come here, assistant! You never have any luck, so how about I shine the spotlight on you today? …Let’s see. (Whisper) If the forecast is wrong, my busty sister will bite her lip and hang her head while she strips in front of the camera for you all!”

“Gyahhh! I never agreed to that!! Wait, I’m not ready for that kind of attention. And isn’t the equator’s weather super hard to predict since squalls will start pouring rain without any warning!?”

“A round of applause for our plain but lewd weather girl who’s second to none when it comes to letting her big boobs go to waste!! And I swear I’m not just jealous. Now, let’s get to the weather. This here is the pressure map. Yeah, this is the equator all right. There’s a huge front approaching.”

“Sacri-sama,” said Aine, running down the hall toward Karuta.

“I’m fine,” was all he said.

There were no physical scars since all his injuries healed after 30 seconds, but the psychological toll was a different matter. He wanted to think he was fine since he was used to pain by now, but if it developed into a phobia, he could end up limiting his options even when his body really was fine. The placebo effect could be a scary thing.

It had been a mess, but he had survived the second round.

It actually helped a lot that he had already had his match done during the morning. He only had one match per day, so now he had the free time to get some rest, spar with Letnahe, and work out a strategy with the others. And his top priority was researching the magician he would be fighting in the third round tomorrow.

However, that turned out to be a problem.

After he left the ring utterly exhausted, Aine had a disheartening message for him.

“Your next opponent has yet to be determined. That match is in the afternoon.”

“So now I have too much time.”

It wouldn’t hurt to watch that match himself, but he had nothing to do until then. He considered sparring with Letnahe, but the bespectacled teacher shot down that idea.

“Get the bare minimum of nutrition first. One look at your face is enough to know you didn’t eat breakfast. That is foolish and sad enough as it is, but were you planning to skip lunch too? You will never make any progress if you don’t place sufficient importance on food. Sparring with you would be meaningless.”

He recalled hearing that Indians were especially strict about treating food with respect. Karuta had always been inconsistent in when he ate and he didn’t mind skipping meals, but if she wouldn’t spar with him, the decision was out of his hands. He had the free time, but he couldn’t ignore the people he needed to help him.

Aine eagerly clenched her fists in front of her face.

“Sacri-sama, this is our next Catastrophe mission. Let’s go eat.”

“What, did the world’s strongests wander into an easygoing tutorial level? That’s the kind of mission I would expect on an educational program for little kids, Aine.”

But he didn’t have the energy to drag his aching body into his dorm room’s kitchen, so it would be faster to visit one of the restaurants the students were running like this was a festival. Those very restaurants meant the usual cafeteria was closed.

Aine looked out the window to view a machine producing a whirring sound.

“That drone is made of gold and rare earths. I wonder how much I would have if I gathered up all of them. Drool.”

“Don’t eat the tournament cameras. Please. The world doesn’t need a crystal girl’s endoscope footage.”

(If I want to know the food is good, I should probably go there.)

“Um, listen up, everyone. This crystal blossom plays a key role in crystal magic. A god’s name is sealed inside a circuit board smaller than a stamp, and…”

The puppyish Sub Category teacher Sophia Firenze was surrounded by small children in an unused classroom. She appeared to be giving visitors a lecture on crystal magic. She received so many more questions than she did in ordinary classes, so she looked overwhelmed but delighted.

Soon thereafter, Karuta encountered another commotion.

Student Council President Omotesandou Kyouka was speaking with someone in a corner of the hallway.

“Oh, Kyouka! I was looking for you! If my phone has a signal on this ship, yours must too, so why did you have your phone off!?”

“Sigh. Shouka, I was providing commentary for a live broadcast, so I couldn’t have my phone ringing during the match. …Oh, Karuta-kun.”

She looked like she wished he hadn’t seen this, an unusual reaction for that mysterious dark-hearted president. Karuta approached with Aine at his side.

Also…

“Oh, you’re that kid from before.”

“Why, if it isn’t Utagai! Thank you for before!!”

It was the small girl with a bob cut and a light green (maybe yellowish green?) kimono. Her face lit up when she saw him.

Now it was Kyouka’s turn to look curious and Aine tilted her head too. Come to think of it, wasn’t Aine off doing something else when he met this girl?

“What, did you two get to know each other behind my back?” asked Kyouka.

“Utagai helped me when I was lost earlier. Leave it to the world-famous Second Grimnoah to be so large you can forget it’s even a ship. Oh, but I wouldn’t have gotten lost if my sister here hadn’t turned off her phone! Hmph!!”

“Sister?”

The girl’s retelling of that chance meeting made Karuta tilt his head.

Kyouka rubbed her temples and moved her lips like she wanted to say something, but she finally gave up and sighed. When she did speak, it sounded like a confession.

“This is Omotesandou Shouka, my brother.”

“Brother!!!???”

“Oh, did you think he was a girl? But the hat and haori are boy’s clothing. Still, people often make that mistake. Maybe it’s his babyface and maybe it’s his slight build.”

Kyouka was finally back to her usual mischievous self.

Karuta was shocked by this revelation, but Shouka failed to notice and laughed it off.

“Ah ha ha. Don’t be ridiculous, Kyouka. Just look at this muscular beauty. Maybe things were different when I was a kid, but now that I’ve been training my body daily, no one would ever make that mistake!! Right?”

He pulled back his kimono’s short sleeve and bent his arm like he was flexing his bicep, but Karuta could not look him in the eye.

The crystal girl had a question for Karuta.

“Sahri-hama? Hy are you hulling on my heek?”

“Oh, just resetting my senses. Yes, this is what a girl’s skin feels like.”

The upper arm emerging from the kimono was unbelievably bright. Shouka himself probably wasn’t aware, but the way he tilted his head and asked “right?” was more powerful than a hydrogen bomb. Karuta felt certain Yamane Deiri or Nekoumi Hirosuke would fall for him in a heartbeat. Also, Shouka only looked 10 or 12, so how exactly did he define when he was “a kid”?

“I’m going to be a crystal magician one day and then I’ll be as strong as you and my sister!”

Kyouka was not the only one unable to bear the boy’s sparkling eyes.

A filthy avenger like Karuta had to work hard not to avert his gaze.

“The Four Living Gods are so popular. Hard to believe the things they say are about us.”

“Yes, they’re even selling photo books. Photos of Aine-chan and Marika-san soaring through the sky are especially popular.”

“Is that allowed? What about that whatever-it’s-called…likeness rights?”

“It counts as ‘journalism’, so it’s hard to get after them about it. You know how military journalists take photos of cutting-edge warships and fighter planes? It’s like that.”

The president could laugh about it because she did not directly participate in combat and was not viewed as a military weapon like the others. To be fair, she made up for that by getting up on the stage as their spokesperson.

“Marika-san seems to like the attention. And, Karuta-kun, you’re fairly popular yourself.”

“?”

“Look, Utagai! This sketch card is based on your second round match! Ah ha ha. I spent my allowance to buy a whole bunch of these from the art club. That manly look of determination in profile is so cool☆”

Karuta could only scream.

It wasn’t a photo or a video, but the drawing was still embarrassing since it had the realistic look of a courtroom sketch. Kyouka herself sighed while brushing her hair back from her shoulder.

“I really wish they would stop this since it could allow the contestants to analyze each other, but it’s hard to track these analog methods. So just be careful, Karuta-kun.”

Petty bourgeois Karuta was still not used to all this attention, so his eyes widened and his soul tried to escape through his mouth. The world’s strongest would inevitably be viewed similarly to a hero in full-body tights. He was well on his way to wishing he was a masked wrestler instead.

“Anyway, I notice Shouka-kun chose a kimono to dress up nice. I had my suspicions already, but are you two from a pretty well-to-do family?”

“Karuta-kun, I have a prophecy for you: you will regret this once your family shows up. Because I am going to be ruthless.”

He had only meant it as a casual change of topic, but that was apparently a delicate issue for her.

But it was Shouka who unwittingly dropped the real bombshell.

“You somehow managed to evade me yesterday, but I am getting these things to you today, Kyouka. Pajamas, socks, a coat for chilly nights, and underwear!! Mother and the servants asked me to bring you these clothes, so I need you to take them!!”

“Gyahhh!? D-don’t show those off in the hallway with a boy right here, Shouka! And why oh why does the underwear have a kitten on it!?”

The president actually screamed for once when she saw the colorful (and surprisingly cute) piece of cloth. She was apparently fine with showing such things off and setting things up so they would be seen, but she did not want it to happen when she wasn’t in control. …And she only seemed to have a problem with Karuta seeing it. In her panic, had she too forgotten that Shouka was a boy?

(Wait a second…)

“O-oh, no. Does this mean my parents might be on this ship too? Families of contestants got priority tickets, didn’t they?”

“That is correct, but why is it a problem?”

The nonhuman crystal girl had never had a rebellious phase and tilted her head at his panic. She was still a long way from understanding the awkward feeling of having your friends meet your family.

“We were on our way to grab some lunch, so do you want to join us, Kyouka-san?”

He decided to ask, but the president, whose soul was escaping from her lolling head, shooed him away with her hand. She was apparently too mentally overwhelmed for that.

“Oh, Utagai! Please give me your autograph later! You can do it right here!”

“I am not scrawling my name on that expensive-looking kimono, so please don’t even ask!!”

He made sure to stay in public mode even though he was Kyouka’s family. After leaving those siblings, he and Aine were finally off on their quest for food. Unlike the gym’s formal redecoration or the heliport’s showbusiness transformation, the school hallways were decorated with chains of streamers and cellophane stars, giving them the same feel as a school’s cultural festival.

They found a hell of students trying to attract customers.

“We have ice cream, café au lait, cookies, custard, and cake! Come try the tea club’s authentic matcha café!!”

“The world’s cuisine reborn! Come see how tasty the chemistry club can make a simple fried egg! Why not try our unbelievable pure science style of cooking!!”

“How about some light exercise after your meal? Class 2-5 is running a target practice game outside. Hit us just once while we fly around and everyone currently playing the game wins a fabulous prize! The more players, the better your chances!”

“Craving a familiar flavor after such a long journey? The food research club is taking home cooking requests from 130 different countries and regions.”

A handmade gate forming an upside-down U had lots of balloons attached. All the rooms on this hallway had apparently worked together to create a “gathering spot” similar to a food court. It would serve its purpose as long as people thought of it as a good place to kill some time or meet up with someone.

“Now, where should I get some food. I’m not really in the mood for anything adventurous. Eating something awful would really get me down right now.”

“But won’t you have a hard time finding something good when these are all run by students doing it mostly just for fun? Hm, I get the feeling we will not find a wide variety of restaurants that use pure gold as an ingredient.”

Aine’s criteria for a good restaurant were too unique, so he could ignore her.

But he did know one good place.

“If I don’t want to be disappointed…hm, the maid café run by Natalena’s class should work.”

“…”

“Hey, Aine? This isn’t about the maids. It’s about the quality of the food they serve.”

He poked his head inside and received the ugliest look from his high-quality underclassman (in a handmade miniskirt costume). She had the same look as a student at a strictly hierarchical workplace when her friends showed up just for fun.

“Um, do you have something against me, Senpai? What did I do to deserve this kind of harassment!?”

“I couldn’t forget how good that food was.”

“A good upperclassman doesn’t punish his underclassman for being nice!!”

She had said the boys in her class had all voted for the maid café and the girls had not been thrilled with the idea.

The maid café took up two classrooms – one as the customer seating area and the other as the kitchen filled with portable stoves. That was probably standard for the all the student-run restaurants here.

Their repeated battles had caused Karuta’s title as the world’s strongest to lose some of its luster with the Second Grimnoah students, but some middle school girls in maid costumes were talking excitedly and pointing his way. They even teasingly shouted over “C’mon, Jane-san. You need to smile.”

The naughty girl who used a fake name at school put on a smile as stiff as a doll in bad need of oiling. She was technically smiling, but the silver tray held to her flat chest was straining in her grip.

“W-welcome back, master. I will guide you to your seat, so come this way.”

“Oh, you can skip the formalities with me, Natalena. I’m only here for some food.”

“Try that again and I’m starting a maid uprising to overthrow our cruel master. Please don’t drag me back to reality after I get into the part. It’s so embarrassing!!”

Was that how it worked?

Karuta pondered the challenge of mastering the maid arts as he was shown to his seat. In addition to the streamers and cellophane decorations, they had made tables by pushing four desks together and placing a tablecloth over the top. The chairs were just the ordinary classroom ones, so they looked weirdly out of place.

“Natalena.”

“Please call me Jane Ignition here. …Now, what is it, Senpai? Um, were you hoping I would make a heart with my hands and fill your omurice with love?”

“No, I noticed the menu says I can get a selfie with my table’s maid. But to fit in the frame, wouldn’t you have to practically press your cheek against mine?”

“I apologize for anything I might have done to you, Karuta-senpai, but I can only conclude you’re trying to kill me with stress at this point! Everyone has been too shy to order anything from the joke menu the stupid boys made, so please don’t make yourself the first!”

“I won’t. But I do have something I want to ask of you.”

He looked back at the homemade menu created by gluing small photos to cardboard and then attaching clear plastic on top of that and he found they had a surprisingly diverse lineup. In addition to the honey chicken sandwich he had eaten the day before, they had all the basics like omurice, hamburger steak, seafood pasta, pilaf, and shrimp gratin. They also had several options for dessert and drinks. It was all completely different, not just different variations of what could be made in a single large pot. The boys in the kitchen had to be very busy indeed. This may have been the girls’ way of taking revenge after being forced out here by the boys’ superior numbers.

“Wait, does this mean the sandwich I had yesterday was made by a boy? …Wait, wait, wait. Does this mean the very structure of a maid café means you’re never actually eating food made by one of the maids?”

“Why would that matter, Sacri-sama?”

Karuta had stumbled upon a sad quirk of the world, but the crystal girl only tilted her head. He frowned and toyed with the menu.

“I don’t even care anymore. I thought I was in the mood for bread, but now I want some omurice all of a sudden. Aine, what about you?”

“I do not require food to function.”

“But you deserve a treat.” He smiled. “You kept your promise about making yourself useful this time.”

“…”

“I doubt I could have figured out how to turn the tables against Athabaskan without you. His inability to kill his totem animal was a clue you found, right? So I wanted to thank you.”

“Some dessert is all I need. …Yes, this chocolate cake looks very good. The one with the chocolate plate bearing a message in gold leaf. We are most pleased.”

Why did she start talking like a queen lovingly tormenting her prey?

Once they had given their order (to trembling Natalena-chan), Karuta breathed an exasperated sigh.

“I guess it actually works in our favor that the battles are all one-on-one. We don’t have to worry about hidden attackers or suspect our own people.”

Those ideas came to mind so readily thanks to their previous battles. The battle against the Problem Solvers had been one surprise after another, some Sub Category girls had betrayed them at the Crystal Beach, and they had been shaken by the true identity of the Threat at Second Grimnoah.

In a one-on-one tournament, neither side could touch the other until they were in the ring.

These battles were fair, ideal, and absurdly unrealistic.

“Suspect our own people? I would never do anything to harm you, Sacri-sama.”

“Oh, really? I seem to recall you calmly slicing right through my body.”

“You mean the ruse used to break Miss Marika’s spirit when she lost control at the Crystal Beach? You ordered me to do that.”

He had only meant to tease her a little, but her reaction surprised him.

The crystal girl puffed out her cheeks from within.

It was such a rare image he immediately snapped a photo with his phone, which made her puff them out further. That was a bad sign, so he decided it was probably best if he didn’t doodle on her photo.

“Sacri-sama, you are moving your finger an awful lot for only taking a photo. Are you doodling on my face?”

“Of course not. I would never. Heh heh. Yeah, cat ears suit you so much better than dog ears.”

“I rule it 100% confirmed.”

(Uh, oh. I may have pushed my luck too far this time.)

He had only wanted to change the subject to distract her from her anger, but the crystal girl was not that simple to control.

But when he did resume talking, he looked somehow amused with this small change in her behavior.

“Okay, Aine how about this? This is a request, not a command. I ask that we never harm each other and that we always rush to each other’s aid when we’re in trouble.”

“What is that, Sacri-sama?”

“It’s called a pinky promise. It’s a human ritual.”

Aine kept her head tilted.

After a moment, she reached out her pinky to mimic him.

They gently linked fingers.

“Sorry about the wait, master. Please enjoy.”

“Whoa!?”

The superb maid spoke more stiffly than a robot and thudded down a large plate of omurice.

The omurice served to him by Natalena had a topping he had not requested. She had used the omurice and the entire plate around it as a canvas to fashionably and cutely write out a message in red ketchup or demi-glace that succinctly expressed her feelings for him.

Die.

“…”

“Humans are such baffling creatures. Is that bloody message meant to be a decoration?”

Part 8

Amaashi Marika was worried her internal groaning was going to escape as something audible.

The unruly(?) strongest girl was at a complete loss here.

“Ha ha ha. Marika-chan has grown up so much since I last saw her. Karuta is such a lucky boy. And I don’t have to worry about him when I know she’ll be by his side!” (Utagai Dad)

“I know, right? Marika, do you remember how you used to talk on and on about how you would marry Karuta when you grew up? And you would get so mad when I teasingly said I would take him for myself☆” (Amaashi Mom)

She was being attacked from all sides.

Having your parents visit school was bad enough for a teenage girl, but the neighbor boy’s parents were here too. The hellish crossfire was more than she could bear. She was tense as could be with an unnaturally stiff smile on her face while she silently cursed someone who wasn’t here.

(K-K-K-Karuta… You’re supposed to look after your own parents, so why am I stuck with them!?)

Perhaps there was still some hope in the world. Marika had traveled the world and hunted down the Problem Solvers for revenge and she was willing to assassinate an underclassman if they would harm one of her friends, but there was still something out there she couldn’t stand.

That aside, what did the peaceful members of the Amaashi and Utagai families think this magic tournament even was? The Utagai family in particular had been watching as their only son was bloodied and nearly killed while the crowd went wild.

“Hey, I had a question.”

After stepping aside to let a clown balanced on a ball and a bunny girl past (what club were they from?), Utagai Dad tilted his head in the decorated hallway.

“When is your match going to be, Marika-chan? It doesn’t seem fair to give our Karuta all the attention.”

“I know. Or is it a team battle? Either way, this is your big chance. I just hope Karuta isn’t stealing the limelight from you.”

“…”

They didn’t even know the basic rules.

They had to have some kind of understanding, but they were just so carefree. She had to wonder if they could even keep track of which fighter was their son when Karuta and his opponent rushed at each other at close range, constantly switching positions.

(In fact…)

Would they even understand her if she explained Karuta’s plight to them?

She felt like they would pepper her with whys and never actually come to terms with what she was saying.

They refused to actually think through the information presented to them.

They believed they could get by without understanding all the details. They believed they could get what they wanted if they just clicked the first option on the list and chose “agree” on ever TOS they came across. They truly believed the world was so kind.

Even though they lived in an age where the Threat had reduced the earth’s population to 5.5 billion.

They were still convinced that everything would work out in the end.

There was not actually a safe path through this world of malice and violence. Life was a sequence of crises where you had to make your own observations, think for yourself, and take action or you would be killed instantly.

“What are your plans for today, Marika-chan?”

“Eh? Oh, there’s a match I’m interested in, so I was thinking of watching that.”

“Is it Karuta’s match?”

They weren’t even aware that Karuta had already fought his match for the day. The question had so little basis in reality that Marika froze up for a second and smiled stiffly when she did answer.

“Nooo, it’s not his. It’s between a Greek mythology astrologist and an occult kunoichi.”

The world’s strongest gyaru tried her best to be polite to the neighbor boy’s parents.

That match would determine Karuta’s opponent in the third round. She didn’t know which one would win, but it couldn’t hurt to use the match for research.

But she received an unexpected response.

It came from her own parents who were so accustomed to a peaceful life they could not keep up with what was really happening here.

“Oh, then that’s too bad, Marika.”

“Eh? Why’s that, mama?”

“You didn’t see the emergency news on the screen over there earlier? Round 2 Match 3 ended in a win by default.”

“…”

Something was happening.

Something decidedly different from all the past matches.

It was nothing concrete and she couldn’t find an appropriate word for it, but if she had to describe it she would say it was the density and concentration of malice rapidly increasing.

This oppressive feeling was the same thing she had felt when up against the Problem Solvers or the Threat.

“One of the contestants was in an accident, so they couldn’t participate. They were injured pretty badly, so the tournament was the least of their worries,” said Marika’s mother, with a hand on her cheek. She sounded as carefree as if she were talking about vegetable prices going up again. “The poor girl. I don’t know the details, but how can the other contestants feel comfortable walking around when they won’t tell anyone what happened? Marika, will you be okay? Accidents like these are so scary.”

The battle was not restricted to the ring.

This opponent was not going to wait that long.

There was something different about this one.

Between the Lines 2

“Sorry about the wait. Let’s get started.”

That night, Letnahe Kurent visited an important section of Second Grimnoah. She completely ignored the meteor shower event going on outside and her outline was swollen by the thick positive pressure protective suit she wore. This place was not controlled by the Sub Category or Main Category students. The adult teachers were in charge here.

Sophia Firenze and Kiyosawa Hadome were already there.

The latter Letnahe had never intended to see again after she sealed away the memories of her first love. He did not know she was one of the string pullers.

The bulky protective suit came in handy there. The thick shields kept them from seeing each other’s faces clearly and they were fully separated despite standing in the same space.

(Hadome-kun.)

“Make sure to record your work in three different formats. This one is in good shape compared to the thoroughly-destroyed samples collected during the days of the previous strongests. An opportunity like this might not come again, so we need to avoid any possibility of losing these records due to a silly mistake.”

She kept her feelings hidden inside and maintained a businesslike demeanor as she looked to the “sample” lying on the work table. It was a reddish-purple hunk of metal nearly 3m long.

It was a Threat.

Specifically, it was the one known as the Warrior Doll. It had been the most powerful Threat occupying Second Grimnoah. The part analogous to a head was missing, but this was still a crucial sample toward learning more about the Threat.

They were known as Metal-Derived Autonomous-Origin Higher Lifeform Combat Weapons.

They were a threat to humanity of extraterrestrial origin that rained endlessly down on the earth.

They fiercely fought against the Original Crystal Embryo that slept at the earth’s core and was the source of crystal magic.

The Threat had caused great damage during their occupation of the Port of Kobe and Second Grimnoah. That the battle had allowed the details of crystal magic to reach ordinary people’s phone lenses was especially damaging.

But some good had come of that battle.

A great many Threats had ceased to function within the massive closed room that was Second Grimnoah. If they were only going to meticulously deliver a finishing blow to each one anyway, they could easily fudge the official numbers of Threats discovered and secretly capture some.

That meant they could keep this fact from the human string pullers who Letnahe knew so well.

This was one of those.

Since Letnahe had taken such a risk on this, she was hoping for a discovery bigger than anything her higher ups had told her.

“Now, should we call this a dissection or a dismantling?” groaned Kiyosawa Hadome, standing around the same work table.

This was not a human. They all knew that. But the metal armor clearly had more joints than were necessary for pure efficiency. They may have been unsure how exactly to classify their actions here.

But they got to work regardless.

“The weapon is…wow, it’s the same material as the Threat’s body.”

There was no plasma jet anymore, but Sophia Firenze was very careful not to touch the blade as she examined the weapon. She may have started with a weapon instead of the Threat itself because the consequences of a mistake were far less.

The sword was designed to emit a plasma jet and it had fine, branching wiring on the inside. Letnahe initially likened it to a plant’s roots, but then she realized what it really was.

“Blood vessels and nerves…or a mimicry of them.”

“We do not even know if the Threat transports oxygen or carbon dioxide. Amaashi Marika saw Threats operating underwater.”

Hearing Hadome’s voice from unexpectedly close by made Letnahe’s heart leap a bit.

And he was right.

They had heard that the real Threat could not be defeated by ordinary means, so Sophia and Hadome were ready to activate their crystal magic if need be. But that did not prove necessary. Their surgical saws and drills – designed for use on human bones – worked just fine.

“I-is their armor only solid while they’re alive? Or do they activate a thin magical barrier around themselves?” nervously suggested Sophia.

They were recording all of this, so it was best to vocalize any idea that came to mind. Letnahe agreed with that stance anyway.

“When Utagai Karuta fought this armored warrior in the gym, he said he avoided an attack by using one of the tadpole corpses as a shield. Maybe the armored warrior is special and maybe micro-damage spreads through them at an accelerated rate as time passes after their death. We just don’t know enough to say.”

They could not focus on the weapon and exterior forever.

They finally shifted their focus to the armored warrior itself lying there on the table.

According to Utagai Karuta’s battle report, the armored warrior had not taken this form to begin with. It had initially been a lion-shaped Threat they had dubbed Sparkle. It had taken this humanoid form only after devouring several of the tadpole ones. Yet when they removed the armor piece by piece, none of it felt out of place. A closer inspection showed some notches that looked like a single unified pattern when viewed together.

“It’s beautiful.”

Kiyosawa Hadome’s assessment felt out of place here, but Letnahe had to agree with him. The gray artificial muscles were so perfectly laid out she would have sworn it was based on a wiring chart.

Once they split the Threat open, that was what they found.

Letnahe felt no biological disgust – only the artificiality of a wax food sample. Maybe that was due to her not viewing the armored warrior as a living creature like them, but she did not bat an eye even when viewing the burned-out capacitors arranged like wings.

“This is its heart?”

Letnahe went through a few different processes to open up the chest and gently extracted the object protected by rib-like metal pillars.

The unit was a little bigger than a clenched fist. It was constructed from a few gears and a U-shaped tuning fork.

It reminded her of something, so she stated it aloud through her protective suit.

“Is this a tuning fork clock?”

A tuning fork would ring at a set frequency, so a clock could track time using the tuning fork’s constant amplitude. The Threat supposedly received solid fuel from the sea anemone ones, but Letnahe had not known that fuel was used to run something like this. It was fascinating to find they had this in place of a heart. What meaning did the Threat find in their own pulse?

And the idea of a clock increased the nagging sense she had that something was wrong here.

Yes.

That’s right.

“Crystal magic,” whispered Letnahe.

She could not use crystal magic herself, but its presence rapidly grew in her mind.

She recalled whose lair she was inside.

Crystals could also be used to produce a fixed vibration. And there were clocks that accurately measured time using that trait.

They were the one thing that could defeat the Threat which had tuning fork clocks inside them. They were the one thing the Problem Solvers had chosen to dirty their hands in order to eradicate. They were the vanguards chosen by the Original Crystal Embryo.

They could deflect any external interference with a barrier, they could defy gravity and fly through the sky, and they could regenerate any injury in 30 seconds. And if they died, they were not even allowed to rot. They would instead transform into solid crystal statues.

What if?

What if they too had a clock embedded in them? What if that was the true identity of their crystal blossom? And if they were ruled by a clock just like the Threat, then could they still be called human? If you looked past their ribs and sternum, would you even find the crucial component known as a heart?

This was a battle between two different types of clock – tuning fork and crystal.

Did that mean anything? Simplifying it down like that had actually left Letnahe more confused.

“What is it?” said Kiyosawa Hadome. He asked the fundamental question – a question that’s answer continued to elude scientists the world over. “What even is crystal magic?”

Humanity was beginning to rely on it.

They were reaching a point where they could not protect the earth without it.

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