“That it is inside of its shell, the sleeping egg knows not…”

…In the corner of a back alley, who voices spoke in wispers.

“Shut up… just be quiet already.”

[You ain’t got long anyways. Don’cha feel like taking someone down with ya?]

“…This has nothing to do with you.”

[Hey, come on, seriously. Kill me already.]

“To hell with that… How many do you think have sacrificed themselves just for you? You’re going to carry out the job you were meant to do––I’ll make sure of that.”

[Come on, kill me. What’s the problem? It’ll be easy.]

“………”

[I don’t wanna keep living any more. I’m just so damn tired of clinging to this stupid fake existence. C’mon now. Think of it as a mercy.]

“………”

[Please, kill me. Do me that favor, man…]

…The voices left the alley and headed toward the shopping district across from the station.

“Oho, you play that game too, do you?” came a voice from above him.

He looked up to see a gray man. He was somewhere in his thirties or maybe even his forties? Being a middle schooler, Hiroshi had a hard time figuring out the age of middle-aged folk. He considered the man “gray” mostly because of the gray trench coat he had on, which was closed up tightly at the front. However, there was also this kind of sooty, somber feel to the man that gave Hiroshi this “gray” impression.

The man grinned. In his hand was an egg shape similar to what Hiroshi was playing on.

“You play too?” He’d rarely ever talked to middle-aged men one-on-one like this before, but if games were their common ground, then there was no need for him to be shy.

“Ah, well, I think mine might be a lower quality one. I can’t seem to get a hold of any good items unless I trade with someone,” complained the man.

Hiroshi couldn’t help but laugh at how dramatically the man bemoaned his plight.

“What’s in you inventory then? Do you have nothing but antidotes or something?”

“Yeah. They’re all pretty much useless. Even if I want to sell them, I don’t get much.”

The two of them started talking excitedly about a topic that would be baffling to people who hadn’t played the game.

“42 here. It’ll be tough, but winning isn’t entirely out of the question, right?”

The two of them then linked their portable info terminals and started playing, the two consoles beeping all the while.

The man played well, but unfortunately; the child was just better at battling than him. Ultimately, the game ended in Hiroshi’s victory.

“All right, guess I’m claiming some data from you.”

“Oh well.”

Hiroshi switched screens and examined the list of data that the man had. Item names listed as basic words ran the length of the menu.

“You really do have nothing but antidotes!” said Hiroshi, laughing at the display showing nothing but <POISON>.

However, among them, he noticed that there was one name he’d never seen before and frowned. “Hm?”

<EMBRYO>

That was what the screen displayed.

“What’s this ‘embyoo’ one?”

“Ah, I found that one recently. I don’t know what it is,” said the gray man hurriedly. “Would you mind overlooking that one?”

With a mocking smile, Hiroshi transferred the thing called <EMBRYO> to his own device.

“Hoo boy. This didn’t go well at all…” said the man with a sigh.

“You just need more training, ossan.”

The man laughed at this. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“Well, don’t worry, I’ll research this item carefully and make sure it’s put to good use.”

“I don’t know… It might be a little out of your league. It has a habit of moving around pretty quickly, after all. It’s just in its nature.” It sounded like he was being a sore loser, so Hiroshi snapped back.

“I can handle it better than you!”

“That so? Well, best of luck with it.” His words were delivered in a strangely serious tone; Hiroshi felt something wasn’t quite right.

“Huh?”

“And, should it end up leaving your hands soon, I wish the very best of luck to those who will come to possess it in future. I really do…” muttered the man to himself.

…Did he really take losing that bad?

Hiroshi was doubtful, but suddenly perked up when he noticed his watch.

“Ahh, it’s this late already?!” Since both of his parents wouldn’t be coming home today, he was meant to be meeting his older sister in town for a meal.

“See ya, ossan!”

And then he just stood like that in the corridor. A few minutes later, someone trying to get to the toilet lightly brushed his shoulder. “‘Scuse me.” The next moment, the man’s upper body twisted round.

Then from the middle of his torso came a crack, like a withered tree, and, with his lower half still standing, the upper half faced straight down.

“…Wah?!”

The passer-by leapt away from the man in fright. The man’s grey coat had been hoisted up, revealing what was inside. And inside…there was nothing. The place between his upper and lower body, where his midsection should have been, was empty. His top and bottom were connected – just barely – by his spine, one teetering atop the other like a balancing toy.

The man’s body fell apart.

And the blood, which for some reason hadn’t been gushing out of his wound until now, slowly began to spread out across the floor.

The corpse lying completely still made it clear that he was very much dead. And yet – despite having his entire midsection removed – he’d been moving for quite some time beforehand. When exactly had he died––or rather, been killed? The answer wasn’t one that anybody in the arcade could hope to imagine.

* * * * *

“Still…”

High school girl Honami Akiko was walking through town with Takashiro Tooru––her co-worker from the convenience store she worked at part-time. They were walking home together because their shifts just so happened to end at the same time.

“You’ve got a nice body, don’t you, Takashiro-san?”

“Huh? Ah…well, I guess so, yeah.”

Standing at 190cm, Tooru was tall. He weighed 75 kg, which was slim for his stature, but he didn’t look it thanks to his developed back and shoulder muscles, which gave volume to his upper body.

He was 16 years old but didn’t go to school. From a social standpoint, he’d be a so-called “freeter.”

“Did you used to do basketball or something?” asked Akiko with an eager expression. She’d been interested in this big guy for a while now. With his deep-chiseled features that lent him a mysterious aura, and how incredibly cool and collected he was for his age, she couldn’t take him off her mind.

“Ahh, I get that a lot, but I just seem to be kind of, uh, bad at that sort of stuff.”

“What sort of stuff?”

“Err, I mean like, uh…sports…that kind of thing,” said Tooru, scratching his head furiously. His mid length naturally permed hair might have been a haircut, but it could just as easily have been the result of not cutting his hair for several months.

“But you must have been training for something. Don’t even try telling me you’re bad at exercise!” Even at the convenience store, she’d seen him carrying heavy heaps at a brisk pace all the time.

“Yeah, well, I could probably do it if I tried, but I guess I don’t have much of an interest. Don’t know if I could really get myself invested in it.” Tooru wasn’t articulating himself very well.

“Do you have some kind of dream you aspire towards, Takashiro-san?”

Her question seemed to put him on the spot.

“Uh, umm… I guess so…? If you could call it a dream…”

“I mean, I just can’t believe you’re satisfied living the freeter life.”

“Hmm… Sure you won’t laugh?”

“At what?”

“Uh, you see, I… How do I put this…” Tooru’s voice fell to a whisper as he scratched his head even more. “…I’m sort of thinking that I, uh, want to become a ‘samurai’ of sorts…”

Naturally, Akiko was taken aback.

“…What?”

“Yeah, it’s weird isn’t it…” Tooru said with a forced smile.

“U-um… That’s, ah… You mean like an actor for a period piece?” said Akiko after some thought.

“No, that’s not what I mean. More like-” Tooru stopped mid-sentence. Akiko looked up at him wondering what was wrong and then tensed up as well. Tooru’s expression had totally changed.

He was staring intently at a single point. It was like a magnet had suddenly taken a hold of his gaze in the same way someone might look at their opponent’s deck of cards in a game of poker when they’re about to reveal their hand.

“………”

There, parked by the roadside, was a bike, with a girl lightly sitting on it. She was wearing a leather jumpsuit, and the boots she was wearing were oddly hefty. On closer inspection, they weren’t ordinary boots but safety boots you’d wear to dangerous places, like construction sites.

Tooru couldn’t take his eyes off her. Not in the mushy sense of ogling a beautiful girl. On the contrary, you could almost say it was…

“That woman…”

“Hm?” The girl had also taken notice of Tooru and looked back at him.

I-isn’t that…? Akiko knew who she was.That’s Kirima Nagi. The infamous delinquent…

For a while, Tooru and Nagi locked eyes. Tooru expression was growing steadily fiercer, but Nagi remained calm.

“The way she carries herself… Could that be…?!”

Tooru swallowed dryly. And then, as he took a step towards Nagi…

“I’m so sorry, Nagi! I didn’t mean to keep you waiting!” A girl cradling a large paper bag came running toward Nagi from a street corner, and Nagi casually shifted her gaze from Tooru to her. And then she smiled at her.

“Hey. Did you get the stuff I asked for?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t too bad.” Nagi’s expression when she spoke to the girl was very gentle, as if she were friend or family, and Akiko was a little taken aback at this change.

So even Kirima Nagi can make that kind of expression…

Akiko glanced up and saw that, as she’d expected, Tooru too was staring as if he’d been completely bewitched.

“…Was I just imagining it?” he said in a low whisper and resumed walking.

“W-what was that? Are you a friend of Kirima-san’s, Takashiro-san?” asked Akiko, but he shook his head.

“No, it was just a little misunderstanding,” he said, striding away without expressing the least interest in the fact that Akiko knew Nagi’s name.

Akiko hurriedly chased after him.

Then, as the two of them came upon a slightly lonely alleyway just ahead of the station they were both headed to…

“Ahhh, you brought a guy with you!” a boy’s loud voice called out from behind them.

Akiko jumped and turned around. Behind her was her little brother, Hiroshi.

“H-Hiroshi! Don’t scare me like that!”

“Heh, heh, heh. How about I just give you some money and you can buzz off?” he said, looking at Tooru and grinning.

“I-It’s not what you think!” She glared at her little brother, and then turned to Tooru.

“I’m sorry, Takashiro-san. This is my brother. I promised him we’d eat out somewhere today.”

“It’s fine. He didn’t really surprise me,” said Tooru coolly.

It was the truth. He’d heard the footsteps of someone running into the alley, trailing the two of them. Although he’d been stealthy about it, Tooru could tell that he wasn’t being especially cautious. From that, Tooru had deduced that it must have been a relative or someone on good terms with Akiko.

“So what’s the plan, onii-san? Are you gonna chat up my sister? If you’re into her, I can always back off,” said Hiroshi, laughing.

“H-Hiroshi!” Akiko raised her voice, turning red.

“Oh, no. Sorry, but I think your sister has just as much of a right to choose. I doubt a vagabond like me here would qualify,” Tooru said offhandedly.

“Oh yeah? You think?”

“Yeah. I’m afraid I don’t even attend school properly,” he stated openly.

“Hmm…”

Hiroshi peered at Akiko’s face. She looked a little hurt. Then Hiroshi asked in place of his sister.

“But you don’t seem like a bad type, right?”

“Hiroshi, would you shut up already?! It’s rude to Takashiro-san.”

As Akiko tried to give her brother a stern telling-off, a beeping sound came from his breast pocket.

“Ah, it’s feeding time. Hold on a sec.”

And, from the small internal speaker, a strange voice leaked out.

…Kill me.

Tooru thought he heard a low, male voice.

“What? What did that thing say just now?”

“Whuh? Is it bugged…?”

Hiroshi tried fiddling with all the buttons, showing no reaction to the bizarre voice.

“That’s a weird game you’re playing there. What’s it called? Did it say ‘kill me’?” asked Tooru.

Hiroshi stared at him.

“Huh? I never said anything like that.”

“No, not you. There was a voice that came from the game, right?”

“What? No, not really?” Hiroshi shook his head.

“But I could have sworn…” Tooru began, then his face tensed with a sudden realization and immediately yanked Akiko toward him.

“Wha…?” she started, but before she even had the time to blush, he followed through and pushed her over to her brother. And right after that, he turned his back to the two of them, staring sharply ahead of him.

A group of three––two men and one woman––were walking up to them. Tooru glared at them. The three of them wore dark coats, and the woman was wearing a blue body suit beneath that; they were the sort of garments you might see in a cheap gangster flick.

“……Huh?”

“Who the hell are you?” The trio looked at Tooru standing between them and the siblings, as if trying to shield them, and frowned.

“Hey, Hiroshi,” Tooru asked to Hiroshi behind him, “ever seen these guys before?”

“Huh? Uh, no, but…”

“Well, it looks like they’ve been following you, is all I’m saying.”

When Tooru said this, the expression everyone’s faces changed.

“…What?” “What are you talking about?” shouted the siblings, and the trio stepped back slightly, poising for a fight.

“…Well? You going to answer our question?”

“You name yourselves first. You all reek of bloodlust,” said Tooru dauntlessly, and the trio exchanged glances. Then, one of the men spoke up.

“We have no business with the likes of you. It’s that brat you’ve got we’re after,” he said, casting a sharp glance at Hiroshi.

“M-me?” Hiroshi, who was behind Tooru, tensed up.

“’Y, you-know-what’? What’s that? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Hiroshi waved his hands around, not understanding what was going on. There was something awfully shady about the three of them. And, looking at their faces, you had to wonder if they were even Japanese.

“Don’t play dumb. We’ve already confirmed that you were the last one to intercept that traitor. We don’t know what form it’s taking right now, but everything’ll be just fine if you just hand it over like a good kid. Otherwise…”

He spoke quietly, but with a distinct severity to his voice; it was evidently a threat.

“H-Hiroshi, what is this? What are these people saying?”

Akiko demanded answers from her brother, but Hiroshi just shook his head furiously. Tooru stepped in to make sure.

“You’re sure you don’t know anything?”

“Y-yeah!”

“…There’s your answer. Sure you haven’t got the wrong person? I mean look at him––he’s just a normal middle schooler. I don’t see how he’d be involved with a dangerous-looking bunch like you.”

“Who are you to keep mouthing off like that, eh? You trying to play the white knight? Keep that up and you’re gonna be in a world of pain.”

Tooru smirked.

“I’m not a knight…”

But the man wasn’t interested in waiting for Tooru to finish his sentence; he lunged at him without provocation with the club-shaped weapon he’d been concealing in his hand.

However, Tooru’s movements were quicker still. He immediately grabbed the man’s hand and lightly caught the tip of his foot; in the next instant, the man’s body whirled around and was slammed down into the ground. A dumpster full of empty cans was shoved away with the impact, its contents spilling out with a noisy clatter.

“…Guoh!”

Speaking to the man writhing on the ground, Tooru finished his sentence.

“I’m a samurai.”

Even Akiko and Hiroshi, who’d quickly leapt back, watched the stunning display in round-eyed wonder.

“H-he’s strong…” Hiroshi murmured in a daze.

The remaining man and woman assumed a guarded stance and moved a step back.

“…Not bad,” said the woman quietly, but with a tone that seemed almost mocking. “But I see that your moves are self-taught. Guess you aren’t backed by the Organization.”

Tooru sullenly focused his attention on the woman. He’d been concentrating on the two men, but now he realized that the long-haired woman had the sharpest eyes out of the three. Her gaze pierced him from the shadow of her long forelocks.

Then, the woman and remaining man began to use a different language, incomprehensible to Tooru and the others.

“He’s not from the Towa Organization. No need to panic,” said the woman, to which the man nodded with a grunt.

“What’s the plan, Pearl?” he asked.

The fact that he was asking the woman suggested that she was their “commander.”

Around them, people who’d heard the commotion had begun to gather, wondering what the fuss was about.

“It’s a fight!” a voice cried from the crowd.

“We’re drawing attention here. Killing these guys would be easy, but if we did that, our “pursuers” would catch our scent. If we take it now, our pursuers will be able to focus on a single target. There’s a high probability we won’t be able to escape them,” muttered the woman called “Pearl” as she looked at Tooru. Then she switched back to Japanese.

“So… You called yourself a ‘samurai,’ did you?”

“Nn?” Tooru was slightly taken aback by the woman’s expression, for she was smiling at him sweetly, with her attractive looks. Yet, it was a smile that belied the scent of something warped and wicked behind it.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You’ll know soon enough.”

Then “Pearl” and the man, leaving the other one lying on the ground, turned on their heels and walked away from that place. It was as if they’d taken flight without the slightest hesitation, without sparing a single thought for the comrade they’d abandoned.

“H-hey! Wait!” cried Tooru, who, on the other hand, was considerably shaken. But as he tried to call them down and chase after them, the man who’d been on the ground suddenly got up.

“…How dare you!”

The man rushed at Tooru, darting past Hiroshi and Akiko. He moved strangely, having apparently sprained his foot.

“Now you’ve really done it!”

Tooru spun around. His brow furrowed. Shaky as he was, the man was holding a gun. And its barrel was pointed directly at Tooru.

“…How dare you humiliate me like this!”

His eyes were bloodshot. He seemed to be in a frenzy thanks to his comrades abandoning him.

“Resorting to guns, are we?” said Tooru, preserving an air of calm.

Then he casually lowered his gaze and noticed something.

“Hm? Hey, Hiroshi, looks like you dropped something in the commotion,” he said and stooped down to pick up the egg-shaped portable device lying on the ground. Seeing Tooru’s continued indifference drove the man into an even greater frenzy.

“Don’t try to fuck with-“ The moment he tried to level his gun at him again, Tooru squatted down and then, from a crouching start, pushed off the ground with a thud and launched himself into the man.

“…Uagh!”

Both the man and Tooru tumbled head over heels and fell to the ground. A bullet fired from the gun, glancing off the concrete wall of a building with a bang.

“Kyaaah!” screamed Akiko. Then, from behind, somebody tightly gripped her shoulder. She turned and was speechless. Because she knew who that somebody was.

“Get back,” they said calmly, and proceeded straight toward where the two were grappling. There was another gunshot, but this person paid no attention to it and grabbed the hand of the man still holding the gun. What had they done? They had, in one deft movement, plucked the man away from the struggling Tooru and sent him flying. The man flew headfirst into a trash can that had only recently been toppled over and, this time, fully lost consciousness.

“……?!” Tooru was agape, staring at the sudden meddler. They hadn’t seemed to exert themselves at all. But the most surprising fact was that they were the one he’d been staring at before: it was that girl.

“K-Kirima Nagi…” slipped out Akiko’s voice in a whisper.

“Nagi…?”

Tooru––though he didn’t feel especially injured in any way–climbed unsteadily to his feet.

“S-so you’re…Nagi?”

“Onii-san, it’s all well and good playing the hero. But did you ever stop to think about the danger of stray bullets flying around the place?”

After Nagi had finished confirming that the man she’d fought was completely out cold, she turned to look at Tooru, then frowned.

“Hm?”

There was something off about Tooru. Oddly, he’d broken into a smile and was staring at Nagi with bright, sparkling eyes.

“So I wasn’t wrong… H-hey, you. The way you moved just now, that technique. It has to be… Just where did you––“

Then, without warning, he launched himself at Nagi.

“…Wah?!”

Taken by surprise, Nagi acted on reflex. With the foot sweep her master had drilled into her, she took down Tooru cleanly. Tooru fell to the ground and sprawled out; he hadn’t tried to defend himself.

“W-what do you think you’re doing?!” cried Akiko, lashing out at Nagi.

“H-hold on, I mean, he just came at me…” Even Nagi was uncharacteristically flurried. “Uh, hey… You okay?”

Nagi tried to help him to his feet, when suddenly Tooru’s eyes flew open.

“Who did you learn that from? …Was it from a man named ‘Gen’…?” he asked, then fell back unconscious.

“………”

Nagi and Akiko, with Tooru passed-out and sandwiched between them, hesitantly exchanged glances.

“I don’t really get what’s going on,” Hiroshi, who’d been silent until now, said timidly to his sister and Nagi, who were both spacing out, “but maybe it’d be a good idea to get out of this place? Kind of seems like the police might show up or something…”

The noisy crowd of onlookers had quickly dispersed once the gunshots were fired. It was highly likely that someone had reported the danger.

“………”

The three of them cast their eyes on Tooru. The big guy was passed-out peacefully, his face a little like that of a stray child who’d just found his parents.

It had happened back when Tooru was still in middle school.

Even during those years of growth, Tooru was tall. Back then he stood at 175cm, which regularly got him confused with for a university student. The middle school he attended wasn’t especially reputable by any stretch, and, though he hadn’t made a conscious attempt to behave or dress like one, Tooru soon found himself falling into the role of a kind of old-fashioned “bodyguard” to some school thugs.

To his relief, the kouhai wasn’t addicted enough that it would end up killing him, so he was able to recover and get back on his feet. But Tooru wasn’t willing to just let it go like that. He sniffed out the yakuza who’d sold the drug and got a tip about a deal going down at the harbor and––of all things––recklessly crashed it all by himself.

Tooru did well. Or rather, his attempt went well. By the time they’d managed to pinned down, he’d already defeated thirteen men, leaving them in such a state that they’d have to be hospitalized for months. But, the odds had always been stacked against him. The attempt ended in his defeat as he was knocked down and a gun was pressed to his head.

“Drop dead, you nutcase braaaat!!!”

Bombarded by cursing, Tooru was prepared to die. He shut his eyes tight and felt the blood pounding in his ears. But no matter how long he waited, the moment didn’t come.

“……Hm?”

Furtively opening his eyes, an unbelievable scene spread out before him. A single… middle-aged man of middling height and build, who didn’t seem very strong at all, was leaping around the place as if he were dancing. In his hands was what seemed to be some kind of long pole.

It was like watching magic.

Though he didn’t seem to be exerting much strength, the man was blowing away the dozens of yakuza in the room one after another with just his pole, and those he felled did not get back up.

Even when his opponents rushed at him with guns, the bullets just never seemed to hit their mark. That was when Tooru became aware of the fact that guns were powerless so long as they didn’t hit their mark. Once they’d all been taken care of, the middle-aged man walked leisurely up to the fallen Tooru.

“You’ve got skills,” said the man, nodding in admiration. “Impressive for someone of your age. But one piece of advice for you: if you want to get your body moving, I’d recommend steering clear of brawls. Think about taking up a ball game, or athletics.”

“W-why’s that?” Tooru asked back, still in a daze. A wry smile appeared on the man’s face.

“You’re the type to get a tad too hot-headed. I used to be like that once. If you really must, I’d find something that gives you a clear distinction between ‘winning’ and ‘losing.’ If someone like you starts getting into fights…there won’t be an end to it no matter how far you go.”

Tooru blinked. He didn’t really understand what the man was telling him.

“Just…who are you?”

“Ah. Right.” The strange middle-aged man thought for a moment, then looked at the pole in his hands and smirked. “Why don’t we just say…I’m a samurai,” he said drolly.

Then came voices in the distance.

“Gen, what are you doing around here?! You’re the one who said to leave the country––what good is it if you start sticking your neck into trouble?!”

Someone seemed to be calling the man.

“Ah, sorry about that. Just coming,” replied the middle-aged man. He threw away the stick, turned and finally left Tooru’s spot.

“……” Tooru was dumbfounded.

After a time, once the force of the blows had left his body and the numbness had worn off, he staggered to his feet. But even still, as he stood in the center of the yakuza around him, groaning and unable to move, with broken limbs and ruptured insides, Tooru continued to gaze off into the direction of the mysterious man who’d called himself a “samurai.”

It was a story from years ago, but Tooru still remembered it all clearly, even when both of Tooru’s parents died in a traffic accident soon after that, leaving him all alone in the world… He’d mourned them, of course, but still, for some reason, he felt that just thinking back to that time was enough for him to find the courage to face things, no matter the situation.

Though he'd been struck with misfortune, the existence of that strange man who’d called himself a “samurai” had put this young man’s life back on track. And it had even went on to become his goal in life.

But the biggest problem with this goal… was that there was nothing concrete with which to grasp it, and it was unclear just how one would be able to attain it.

…That is, until he acquired a “clue.”

After the scuffle in the city, the man who’d fired his gun was arrested by police. They’d hurried to the scene after someone reported him. By that time, the ones who’d been fighting with him were nowhere to be seen, so the police decided to detain him for now and take him in for questioning. However, the man continued to stay silent, and his identity remained unclear.

The police had no choice but to leave him in a detention room and observe him over time.

Then, late that night…

“………”

The prisoner lay awake on the narrow bed of his cell; he’d been wide awake all night and his gaze was affixed to the ceiling. From the outside, he looked expressionless. His mouth was closed tightly, and his eyes stared directly ahead, unflinching.

But, to a certain type of person––a tennis player, for instance, who could gauge their opponent’s condition when facing them in a match one on one––it was patently clear that the man’s rigid expression conveyed only one sentiment: expectation.

Something below was sure to be approaching him, and he was waiting for it… Rather, he didn’t have any other choice. And, to this man, there was nothing more terrifying than the act of waiting…

Fear.

The fear that it would inevitably come held the man’s entire body in a vise, rendering him unable to move nor speak.

That man was the sole person left in the cell. With no one in the surrounding chambers, it was deathly silent. And, in that motionless world, at last, the prisoner showed a reaction. He spasmed as if tensing up, and the pupils of his eyes that stared up above him narrowed to a point.

Someone was standing there. They made to peer over the bed; they were already right next to the prisoner, without their realizing.

“………!”

There hadn’t been any sound. There were neither footsteps nor the clink of a jail key, but even before that, the prison guard who should have seen someone coming showed absolutely no reaction at the person standing right across from them.

He tried to spring up, but for some reason, couldn’t move a muscle, as if his body had somehow turned to lead. He was paralyzed. The intruder had done something to him…but what? He would have known if he’d been touched or attacked in some way…but there was no sensation to suggest anything of the sort.

“You…”

The intruder wasn’t all that tall, but his limbs were long, his figure slender and balanced. He had a childlike face, but there was a sharpness to it, lending him an air that made it difficult to call him a “boy.” The clothes he wore were close-fitting and pale purple in color.

“You…don’t have it, do you?” said the pale purple man quietly. He wasn’t speaking Japanese.

“………!”

A cold sweat began to lash off the prisoner’s face.

“Well then, who does have it right now…? Care to tell me?” asked the pale purple man coldly.

“U-uuugh…!”

“Who’s got the ‘Embyro’? That warrior, Sidewinder, was pretty formidable. He got away from me even after I’d dealt him a fatal blow, and he should have entrusted it to someone… So, who was it?” Then, the pale purple man smirked. “Y’see, I’m really curious… If such a great warrior in his final moments staked his life on someone to protect that thing, I’d love to know what sort of person they’d be. And, personally, I’d love to know whether they’d be someone worth fighting.”

“Uuu… D-don’t tell me, y-you’re…” said the prisoner, his voice trembling. “Pearl told us about you… T-the one with a compulsive desire for battle… Are you the one they call the ‘Strongest’…?!”

Then at last, the prisoner screamed out, cried out in terror. No…he tried to cry out. But for some reason, his “voice” was erased the moment it left his throat and didn’t get any further. The vibrations in the air that should have been rippling out would not spill into the open, as if there were a vacuum stopping it along the way. They didn’t even reach the prison guard who should have been right there, mere meters away from him.

“…!”

“Now…you have two choices,” proposed the pale purple man quietly. “We make a deal. I’m sure you must want to know more about the Towa Organization. I’ll tell you everything I know about them, so long as you tell me what you know in exchange. That’s the first option.”

The prisoner was trembling violently, and upon this, the man layered his gentle voice.

“And the other option is where you don’t speak, and I torture you. But I don’t enjoy doing that. I’m not a fan of toying with the weak, y’see. So, if possible, that’s something I want to avoid.” He let out a sigh. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

The prisoner immediately began blurting out everything he knew just as soon as the pale purple man had finished. He spoke of the boy who’d last contacted Sidewinder, and about his sister and the large man. But he wasn’t able to talk about the girl, Kirima Nagi, who’d actually knocked him unconscious. De’d been taken by surprise, so he hadn’t even realized he’d been knocked out.

“…I see.” The man nodded. “A kid, his sister, and a man presumed to be her lover.”

Then he turned back to the prisoner.

“Whew, you helped me out big-time. Then, as promised, let me tell you what I know.”

“N-no, you don’t have to tell me anything like that!” The prisoner shook his head violently.

“Now, don’t say that… As far as I understand it, the Towa Organization…”

Here the man lightly raised two fingers. Out of nowhere, there was an extremely small, tube-shaped object between them.

“…shows not a shred of mercy towards its enemies.”

And then the man tossed the tube away. But there was no longer anyone there to see it.

…A few minutes later, the prison guard, thinking it was a little too quiet, came over to check on the prisoner. He appeared to be sleeping normally, so he turned straight back around. But at this point, the prisoner was already dead, and later examination discovered that, inside his skull, a section of the blood vessel leading to the brain was missing. Its rupture was deemed the cause of death, but no one could have ever deduced that the missing part of the blood vessel was, in fact, lying there on the prison floor.

[1] This text in square brackets is dialogue. Japanese has two different styles of quotation markers, so it can be easy to denote speech between two people without saying who they are. That’s kinda tricky in English though. We’ll be using this convention for now but might change it later if we find something better.

[2] This refers to a specific type of handheld video game that was popular in Japan for a while. More on what it is later.

[3] Ossan is a middle-aged man. Like with oniisan and oneesan, calling someone “middle aged man” in English sounds weird, and there’s no good analogue, so we left it as-is.

[4] PvP” is a common acronym in games referring to player verses player encounters. Was originally used to refer to online PC games like MUDs and MMOs, but has since expanded to any sort of battle between players in a game, especially when the game has a non-PvP mode. This phrase wasn’t used in the original novel, but I felt it best communicated what Hiroshi was talking about.

[5] A small thing here, but it’s worth noting that the word he uses here is ‘sayonara.’ This form of goodbye, unlike Hiroshi’s, implies a long term, or even permanent goodbye, often used for dramatic effect in Japanese fiction.

[6] While largely irrelevant to the story, this confirms exactly what Hiroshi’s portable console is. It is most likely supposed to be an imitation of the Dreamcast VMU (virtual memory unit). It was a memory card that you could play small mini games on. The most well-known use of this is in Sonic Adventure’s minigame, Chao Adventure, which released in 1998 (just before this novel released). Basically, imagine that Pokemon was a home-console game, but you could unplug a little pocket game and use your save data to do random stuff on the go.

[7] A common Japanese term for something that has short proportions, making it cute.

[8] Sidewinder is most likely a reference to the Jazz album and song by Lee Morgan

[9] The group’s name, as well as ‘Pearl’ are both a reference to the album and song “Diamonds and Pearls” by Prince & New Power Generation.

[10] An underclassman

[11] A term meaning “older brother.” It’s often used in gang hierarchies to show a tight bond between comrades. Or at least, that’s the idea. Often times school kids use it to be cool with their friends and seem tough. Also worth noting that the term can sometimes be used for females doing the same thing.