The next day, Sunday, October 21. Today’s plan was to continue their two-pronged investigation. However, their level of motivation, especially Mikihiko’s, was higher than the previous day now that they knew their true objective.

Tatsuya, Miyuki, Minami, Minoru, and Masaki were going to Arashiyama, while Mikihiko, Erika, and Leo would travel to the Takaragaike-Matsugasaki area, where the Thesis Competition venue was located. The eight planned to leave the hotel early in the morning.

However, an unexpected accident occurred.

“…I’m sorry, Tatsuya,” Minoru apologized from his futon in a voice that made it sound like he was about to cry. He’d suddenly come down with a fever this morning and was now in no condition to go out on the survey.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re not responsible for this.”

“I’m just…so frustrated with myself.”

Tatsuya’s words of comfort only made the other boy scrunch up his face even more bitterly.

“Minoru, don’t blame yourself. You’ve done very well.”

The only ones in the room right now were Tatsuya and Minoru. The other members, save one, were waiting in the lobby.

“I’d heard beforehand you’re prone to illness. It’s not your fault, and I accepted this possibility when I asked you to help us out.”

Minoru averted his eyes.

“You’ve been enough of a help already. Without you there yesterday, we may not have ever discovered that conjurer’s restaurant.”

“…You mean it?” Minoru asked, his tone timid, still facing away.

“I really do.”

Slowly and nervously, Minoru returned his gaze to Tatsuya.

Tatsuya’s expression was straightforward as always. One couldn’t even charitably call it compassionate. But his face didn’t seem fake, like it would have if he had put on a smile for show. If the definition of sincerity was honest seriousness, Tatsuya’s gaze was sincerity itself.

“You’ve helped us plenty, and if it comes to it, we’ll probably have to get your help again. Don’t push yourself—that way, you’ll be ready then.”

“Am I still…one of you?”

“We won’t reach Gongjin Zhou today anyway. That’s when we’ll need your strength, so take it easy for now.”

“…All right.”

Minoru smiled weakly. He still looked depressed, but not like he was blaming himself anymore.

“We’ll leave Minami here. She might not look it at first glance, but she’s a housekeeping expert. And, same as you, she’ll be happy if you rely on her. Don’t hesitate to bring anything up, no matter how minor.”

Minoru gave a slightly abashed look. His face was red from more than just the fever. He was probably embarrassed Tatsuya had seen through to his character—someone happy to be relied on.

“I’ll leave your luggage here, so hold the fort while we’re gone.”

This meant after their investigation was over, they wouldn’t be returning to Tokyo right away, but rather, coming back here first.

“You can leave it to me.”

Understanding Tatsuya’s awkward kindness, Minoru offered a smile.

After leaving the room, Tatsuya spoke to Minami, who had been waiting alone in the hallway.

“Sorry to push this on you.”

“No, you’re certainly not pushing anything on me. I am well aware that this is my job. I will take care of Lord Minoru.”

Nodding to Minami as she bowed, Tatsuya headed for the lobby where Miyuki and his friends were waiting.

Minami watched his back until it disappeared, then knocked on the door to the room where Minoru was resting.

Without waiting for a response, she used the electronic key he gave her to open the door. She did this on purpose so that she wouldn’t disturb the resting patient.

She closed the door, then opened the traditional sliding door. Minoru tried to sit up in his futon. Without a sound, Minami rushed over and sat beside him, gently pressing his shoulders back into their former positions.

“Lord Minoru, you needn’t mind me. If you did, there would be no point in taking care of you.”

She said that in a way that almost criticized Minoru—purposely playing the bad guy so that he wouldn’t overexert himself. Minami could never really be the bad guy no matter how hard she tried, of course, but unrelated to that, Minoru properly understood what she really meant.

“All right. I’ll be good and sleep.”

Minami seemed startled by this.

Knees properly together as she sat at his bedside, not moving an inch, Minami stared at him.

Close to thirty minutes passed like that before Minoru, whose eyes were closed, opened them and flashed her an uncomfortable, dry smile.

“Sakurai, if you stare that much, even a man like me will get embarrassed.”

With Minoru’s looks, he would have been used to others staring. But it seemed a different story when the person was this close, right in front of him, watching him as he slept.

“I’m so sorry!”

Minami deftly scooted back a few steps, then lowered her head so deeply her forehead seemed in danger of scraping the tatami as she apologized, voice cracking.

Her face, pressed against the tatami, was—though Minoru couldn’t see it from where he was—dyed bright red.

Minami, for her part, hadn’t intended to be entranced by his face. Nobody else was in the room to talk to, and it seemed indiscreet to her to do something like watch a video or read a book next to a sick person, so she’d simply spaced out, mind blank.

But when he spoke up, she wondered if that had really been all it was.

He said she’d been staring at him.

She asked herself—had she really been gazing at his face as he slept, eyes closed?

And if she had been, then why?

Her already-red face brightened even more.

Even the resting Minoru could see her ears go red, and instead of feeling anguished over her almost groveling pose, he began to worry over her physical condition.

“Umm… Are you okay?”

He started to get up out of bed.

“I’m fine! Please keep resting like you were!”

Rather than using her hands to push him back, Minami, suppressing her tone just before it became a shriek, stood up with her face averted and padded out of the room.

The sliding door shut with a slam. But there was still a little opening.

The outside door didn’t sound like it had been opened and closed, though.

Minoru froze for a short while, hand still stretched out toward Minami, who was no longer there.

Originally, Tatsuya’s group was supposed to be a five-person act, but Minoru had fallen ill and Minami had stayed behind to take care of him, so they were down to three, same as Mikihiko and the others. Commuters were generally four-seaters, so Masaki had planned to come along on his motorcycle, but now that they were a group of three, he was riding in the same car as them.

Tatsuya and Masaki sat in the front seats, with Miyuki alone in the back. Masaki probably secretly wanted to sit next to Miyuki, and Miyuki would have secretly wanted to sit next to Tatsuya, but both of them decided common sense and manners were more important.

Tatsuya was the one to punch in their destination. From the previous day’s meeting, Masaki had thought they’d be going to Arashiyama, so when the commuter parked and Tatsuya moved to get out, he automatically called out after him.

“Tatsuya, weren’t we going to Arashiyama?”

“I’m actually getting a look at something that might be a clue before we do,” he answered, back still to Masaki, before getting his legs out of the car and turning around. “From here on out, I don’t want you to say anything about Zhou.”

“…Is it a secret?”

“If possible, I don’t want to get a certain someone involved in this.”

Masaki stared like he was searching for an answer. Tatsuya thought he’d probably get the wrong idea, but he was the one who set it up that way. He didn’t particularly feel the need to make an excuse for it.

After arriving at the meeting place and waiting three minutes, the person he was waiting for showed up.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Tatsuya.”

“You’re right on time,” Tatsuya said to the female university student who climbed out of a commuter and dutifully ran up to him.

“Huh? Miyuki?”

“Good morning, Saegusa. I didn’t get to see you last month, so it has been a while, hasn’t it?”

Miyuki returned a smile to Mayumi, whose eyes had widened.

“I had no idea you were coming too, Miyuki.”

As she said, Tatsuya hadn’t told Mayumi he wouldn’t be alone.

But Mayumi was too interested in their other companion to complain about it in her usual way.

“Masaki Ichijou, isn’t it? This isn’t exactly the first time we’ve met, but I’ll introduce myself anyway. I’m Mayumi Saegusa.”

In contrast to the uninhibited behavior she displayed in front of Tatsuya, she now feigned friendliness as the daughter of the Saegusa, one of the Ten Master Clans.

“Yes, I remember seeing you. Pleased to meet you,” Masaki responded, a little on edge.

As noted, this certainly wasn’t the first time Mayumi and Masaki had met. But it had been almost four years since they’d last exchanged words. And this was only the second time they’d actually met face-to-face. They were both celebrities in the world of magicians, so neither had forgotten who the other was, but if they hadn’t been, their connection was one that would have been stranger if they’d remembered.

“I’m sorry, Ichijou… Tatsuya, come here for a second.”

With a wonderfully feigned smile, she bowed, then left Masaki, linking her right arm with Tatsuya’s left—clearly not for any good reason—and dragged him away. After getting a few meters away, she began a whispered interrogation.

“Tatsuya, why didn’t you tell me Miyuki would be with you?”

Tatsuya projected surprise. “Because I didn’t think it was important enough to mention. Did you think I would leave her behind?”

Mayumi was about to argue, but then resignation appeared on her face. “Right… Miyuki would never let you go by yourself, would she?”

Stopping herself from shaking her head, she suddenly took on a serious look. Her eyes were fixed on a point above Masaki.

“Then why exactly is Ichijou with you?”

“That’s just a coincidence. Yoshida and the others were checking the Thesis Competition venue area, and they ran into Ichijou. He came to Kyoto for the same reason. He said he planned to look around to see if any suspicious people were hanging around outside the venue area, too, so we brought him along as a kind of bodyguard.”

“Yoshida and the others are here, too…? Oh, that’s right—he’s the disciplinary committee chairman now, isn’t he?”

“I’m impressed you know.”

Tatsuya honestly felt amazed that she’d graduated and still kept up to date about those things—he wasn’t trying to deflect or anything—but Mayumi gave him a you-can’t-fool-me look anyway. It showed how much trust Mayumi had in his everyday acts.

“Anyway, does Ichijou know about my business here?”

“I’d never tell him without your permission.”

The suspicion in Mayumi’s eyes grew even thicker.

Tatsuya knew what that gaze meant, but it wouldn’t make him back down. “In any case, may I explain the circumstances to him? I think he’ll be a big help,” he said, giving her the smile of a con man.

Mayumi heaved a sigh. “Should you really be ordering the son and heir of the Ichijou around like this?”

“I’m not ordering him around. It’s not like he’s a puppy waiting for instructions,” answered Tatsuya in a cheerless voice.

Mayumi let out a chuckle in spite of herself. “All right. I would appreciate it if you could get him to help us.”

Perhaps she thought she’d finally won a point. Her mood brightened, she gave Tatsuya permission to explain the circumstances to Masaki.

Led by a detective assigned to be their guide, the four of them entered the police station’s evidence vault.

Upon hearing about their search for the criminal who murdered Nakura, Masaki showed a surprisingly forward-looking attitude. He seemed to feel exceeding sympathy at how Mayumi had (in his interpretation) undertaken a private investigation in order to avenge her bodyguard. As someone from one of the main Clans, the sight of someone (in his interpretation) showing such passion toward a subordinate instead of treating them like a tool must have tugged at his heartstrings.

Normally, it wasn’t desirable to split your objectives. He who chases two rabbits catches neither, or so went the ancient saying, and the proverb was right a high percentage of the time. But Tatsuya had a hunch:

Gongjin Zhou was the one who murdered Saburou Nakura.

That was what he was thinking. Which was why Masaki getting fired up over a sense of chivalry toward Mayumi didn’t conflict with his objective. Thus, there was no inconvenience at all.

As Tatsuya was thinking about it, the detective brought Nakura’s effects and placed them on the table. “The clothes Mr. Nakura was wearing. As for the CAD, though…”

“I understand,” Mayumi stated. “I’m terribly sorry about that.”

Nakura’s CAD was in the Saegusa vault per Kouichi’s wishes. CADs weren’t just packed with the expertise of whatever magic engineer did its tuning; they were also a superb teaching aids from which one could learn through analysis how the magician who owned it used magic. It was normal for magicians not to want to hand theirs over to anyone outside their family.

But Mayumi felt guilty about Kouichi having retrieved Nakura’s CAD. If you could understand someone’s fighting style to an extent through CAD analysis, you could also infer what sort of spells they used in their latest battle. If you knew that, you could learn things about the crime and also possibly speculate as to what sort of wounds the criminal had. And in that case, you might be able to narrow down the criminal by asking hospitals that had treated patients with the expected wounds. It may have been natural for magicians, but Kouichi’s attitude with the police wasn’t exactly cooperative—rather, it was very clearly uncooperative.

“I’m sorry, sir. What’s this blood?”

The detective shook his head in disappointment at Tatsuya’s question. “Unfortunately, all the bloodstains are from the victim.”

Doing an exhaustive check on the DNA of the blood stuck to the clothes wasn’t easy with modern scientific forensics, but it was possible. Checking if any traces of the criminal remained on the victim’s clothes was a basic procedure always followed for homicides.

“It seems as though his abdomen was pierced from behind, his chest skin and his muscles burst out from the inside, and his heart ruptured.”

That was why it had been reported as an unnatural death. Of course, the news hadn’t delivered information this detailed. Tatsuya had heard about the details from Mayumi.

“Burst from the inside…?” Masaki asked, in a deeply suspicious tone.

“Almost sounds like Burst.”

“Shiba, I promise you, the Ichijou family had nothing to do with this!”

The disturbance in his mind easily seen through, Masaki overreacted. Mayumi frowned a little at how loud his voice was in the relatively small room.

Tatsuya wasn’t seriously suspecting the Ichijous’ involvement, either.

“But no natural phenomenon could have caused an internal chest rupture, and there aren’t exactly many people who can use magic to control the bodily fluids inside a regular living person—much less when the target is a magician—enough to cause their body to explode.”

He’d said it to get all the information in order.

“But that’s…”

Even so, his tongue had been fairly sharp.

“The Ichijou family’s Burst spell isn’t that easy to use, right?”

“Of course not! Ah—sorry, I mean…”

“Calm down. I said it almost sounds like Burst. I didn’t say Burst was actually used, and I certainly don’t think any Ichijou family magician was involved in this.”

Masaki’s face grew a little red, probably because he’d realized how out of sorts he’d been and was embarrassed about it. Maybe his personality is surprisingly weak to unexpected events, Tatsuya wondered.

“Magic that manipulates the inside of another person’s body is hard,” said Mayumi. “But affecting one’s own body isn’t as difficult. Self-acceleration is a relatively popular spell, for example… Tatsuya, do you think Nakura blew himself up—committed suicide?” she asked nervously.

Tatsuya shook his head. “He may have blown himself up, but it wasn’t a suicide.”

“Brother, you believe Nakura did this because he knew he had sustained a fatal wound, right?”

Tatsuya nodded at Miyuki, who was waiting at his side, then returned his gaze to Mayumi. “Could what caused his heart to rupture have been some sort of offensive spell?”

“You mean the victim, shot through the stomach from behind and realizing he was fatally wounded, used the spell to try and take the opponent down with him?”

“Saegusa, did Nakura specialize in magic that uses fluids as a weapon?” Tatsuya inquired, ignoring Masaki’s question.

“…I’m sorry, but Nakura almost never used magic around me.”

Unfortunately, Mayumi couldn’t answer the question.

“I see.”

No tinge of disappointment laced Tatsuya’s voice. But when Mayumi heard the response, she reacted slightly with some haste. “Oh—but I think I heard something when I first met him. Hold on a second.”

She folded her arms and thought, groaning a little.

She’s very much…like a manga character.

As Tatsuya thought of things that could possibly have been rude, Mayumi pounded her palm with her fist. “Right, right, I remember! Nakura said he was good at a spell that could shape water into needles and shoot them at an enemy.”

Masaki furrowed his brow. “Needles out of water…? How? And what effects do they have?”

“I don’t know how he did it, but if they’re needles, he probably used them for piercing,” Tatsuya said. “If you use a convergence-type spell, even water needles get the penetration they need to use them at a practical level.”

Getting a boring answer in response to the question he’d asked in spite of himself, Masaki almost made a slightly miffed face. But right before he did, he remembered Miyuki was watching. “…Which would mean the victim made his own blood into needles and fired them?”

“A counterattack that was literally in exchange for his life…”

Tatsuya directed Elemental Sight at the traces of Nakura’s blood that was stuck to the clothing and recorded the information.

“What are you doing, Shiba?”

“Just thought maybe magical traces were near the abdomen wound.”

“I see…”

Fooled by Tatsuya’s reasonable-sounding lie, not only Masaki but Mayumi also stared hard in the same way. They weren’t directing their physical senses toward the clothes, but their magical ones—but the act of looking at something made it easiest to give your magical senses a direction.

“Hmm… I don’t see anything,” said Mayumi dejectedly, letting her shoulders sag.

Masaki looked up and heaved a sigh. “Nope. I can feel something like a trace, but it’s too blurry, and I can’t read any meaningful pattern from it… Shiba, did you find something?”

“I couldn’t read any information that would specify the criminal, either. But this wound is likely from an imaginary beast.”

“A what?”

“Brother, what do you mean by an imaginary beast?”

Mayumi and Miyuki sought an explanation for the unfamiliar word. Behind them, he saw their detective guide jotting down notes.

Tatsuya tried to make Masaki do the explaining, but Masaki casually looked away. Either he didn’t know or he did and didn’t feel like going through the effort to clarify for him.

Miyuki was the one asking, so if he had known, he probably would have explained proudly. Tatsuya interpreted that to mean, in all likelihood, it just so happened he didn’t know about them, either.

“Imaginary beast is a name given to a kind of compound form. Compound forms are techniques that magically bend light and add pressure to adjacent objects, making it look like something formless has an actual form. Imaginary beasts don’t twist light to pretend they have a form, though—illusion magic is used to show that form to the enemy. The caster applies anti-object effects to match the constructed form, same as compound forms.”

“Compound forms bend physical light, so anyone can see them. Imaginary beasts only appear through mental interference–type magic, so the only ones who can see them are those the caster wants to show them to. Is that right?”

Tatsuya nodded, satisfied at Miyuki’s understanding. “Yeah. Very good. To add to that, visual illusions aren’t the only thing you can show an opponent. You can use auditory illusions to set up an imaginary beast spell, too.”

“Hold on a minute, Tatsuya. From the way you said it, do you mean an imaginary beast isn’t really a spell unless someone else perceives it?”

“The biggest difference between them and compound forms is in how the spell’s strength grows by making the opponent think something is present.”

Mayumi continued her argument, not looking convinced. “Then why would there be an attack from behind? If there was a noise, Nakura would turn around. It doesn’t matter if it’s a form or a sound—if he could have perceived something was behind him, he would never have gotten stabbed from behind.”

“You don’t need to make the person perceive where it is.”

“What do you mean…?”

“With imaginary beasts, it’s actually better not to let the opponent clearly perceive them. Imaginary beasts are just that—imaginary. If the opponent could see them clearly, they’d realize they weren’t real. The unease at feeling like something exists, the unstable perception that it’s somewhere nearby—imaginary beasts don’t exist, but the phenomenon lives because of those traits.”

“…I don’t really get it.”

“Ah, sorry. Was that too roundabout? To put it simply, if you show the opponent a sacrificial pawn, you make them think you’ll attack them with magic fields shaped like animals, and then you use that as a stepping-stone to cast a stronger spell. The initial pawn can be a compound form or something else—doesn’t matter.”

“So being cautious of your enemy’s magic makes your enemy stronger…?”

“Being aware of the trick halves the effects. It was the right choice getting to see the physical evidence.”

Tatsuya lowered his head slightly in a gesture of appreciation.

Mayumi was at a loss on how to react.

The four of them got into one commuter and headed for Arashiyama. (Mayumi had ended her rental of the one she’d arrived in. It would now be heading automatically to its next user.)

Tatsuya and Masaki sat in the front seats, with Miyuki and Mayumi in the back.

No sooner had the commuter drove off than Masaki spoke to Tatsuya.

“Shiba, about those imaginary beasts…”

Tatsuya and Miyuki didn’t mistake whom he was talking to; Masaki had been asking Tatsuya this whole time about the topic, not his sister.

“Were the puppet shiki we encountered yesterday something else?”

“I’ve never heard them called puppet shiki before.”

Tatsuya was sitting in the front seat on the right, but since the commuter was moving on its own, there was no need for him to drive. He could turn to his side without any problem at all.

“They’re generally called golems. I think that name should spell out the difference?”

“Ichijou, Brother, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

Miyuki leaned forward slightly from the backseat. Still, she didn’t do anything so lacking in etiquette such as grabbing the back of the seat or poking her face up there.

“Brother, I essentially only know of golems by name, so would you be able to explain what kind of things they are in a simple manner?”

For just a moment, Tatsuya gave a dubious look. Golems were a popular attack method among ancient magicians who were in the Christian sphere or Jewish. It wasn’t possible that Miyuki, who had been taught with the expectation that she would fight magicians from foreign countries, didn’t know anything but the name.

But after seeing his little sister’s eyes dart over to Masaki for a moment, Tatsuya realized her true aim. Part of him thought she was being overly considerate, but he didn’t want to waste her efforts, either. For Masaki’s sake rather than Miyuki’s, Tatsuya began a somewhat detailed lecture about golems.

“Golems are puppets designed to resemble creatures or mythical beasts and are made up of several linked parts. By embedding independent information bodies programmed with movement patterns, you can replicate the motions of the creatures they were designed after by using convergence-type magic to continuously change the relative positions of each of the parts. They’re basically magical robots.

“For example, assume you create a giant, humanoid golem out of stone. At a glance, the golem seems to have no joints, like it’s just a hunk of stone, and yet, it appears to move as though it were human. In reality, though, it has no parts connected to it to serve as joints. Like with hardening magic, you just station everything in relative locations—essentially, you’re just piling up body parts.

“Golems possess physical form—whatever they’re composed of. In some cases, they’re organic, like if you use wood, and in other cases, they’re inorganic, like stone—and in yet other cases, they’re amorphous, like water. But compound forms and imaginary beasts are only force fields without physical form. That lack of physicality is an important difference between them and golems.

“As I mentioned earlier, in order to operate a golem, you need to embed independent information bodies programmed with movement patterns. It won’t work unless you continuously project that magic program into it. When the magic program loses its effects, the golem ceases to be a golem. And if it’s made of something amorphous like water, it will immediately fall apart.

“If it’s made out of wood or stone, you frequently use sealing-type magic techniques as a way to affix the magic program to it. But if you’re using another amorphous material like water, you’d mix something that could serve as a magical transmitter into the medium and use that as the target for continuously projecting and updating the magic program. In yesterday’s case, I would assume the first small golems that appeared were one-time-use, disposable tools, where the magician didn’t update the magic program, and then he used the blood stolen from the ninjutsu users to serve as the transmitter.

“Before modern magic was established, it was thought that blood had an important magical significance. Ancient magic posits that blood offerings are highly effective, and many spells exist that use it as a medium. From the perspective of modern magic, blood circulates through the whole body, including the brain, and is directly involved in sustaining life. Additionally, the eidos in blood are highly dense psionic information bodies; even a single drop can contain the detailed properties of the user. Thus, as a target for projecting a magic program onto, you could say it’s extremely suitable.”

“…Then basically, the difference between golems and things like imaginary beasts and compound forms is whether or not they have a physical form, right?”

Perhaps starting to find the lecture boring, Mayumi literally summed up Tatsuya’s explanation in a single sentence.

“Based on all that, golems seem easier to deal with since they have a physical form,” Masaki followed up.

Tatsuya shook his head a little. “Whether they’re compound forms or imaginary beasts, putting in the unnecessary effort of giving it a creature’s form is an inefficient way to use magic. If you don’t use a magical item at the core, they can be wiped out by magical power focused into a small area—Area Interference—and if you’re strengthening the false form with a magical item, all you need to do is destroy that core. Or you can simply destroy the field making up the false form. If the field is applied physically, then you can destroy it physically.”

As they were conversing (though Tatsuya was pretty much the only one speaking), the commuter arrived at their destination.

Minami was quietly reading a book next to Minoru.

Aside from a slight fever, Minoru’s condition was stable. She had no housekeeping to do in a hotel, nor did she need to fight over food or tea preparations. For the first time in a while, she was taking things easy.

Alone with a young man—or rather, a boy about her age—whom she’d only just met. Plus, he was incredibly gorgeous. Exquisite on the inside, too. And yet, wondered Minami all of a sudden, she was able to relax like this.

It couldn’t have been because she was accustomed to Miyuki. She was a woman, and so was Miyuki—though at times, they didn’t seem quite the same. Minoru was of the opposite gender. Naturally, she should have felt differently about him.

Of note, when they’d gone to Nara before, and the previous day as well, her heart had been pounding whenever she went near Minoru. She was aware she was nervous. And it certainly wasn’t because he was the son of the Kudou family. It was probably because he was a male in her age range. And unlike Tatsuya, he was a boy.

His magical talents were wonderful—in fact, they were incredible. He might even rival Miyuki, the Yotsubas’ finest work.

His extraordinary appearance also went without saying at this point.

And yet, for some reason, she felt close to him. She felt that something about him was the same as her. She knew she was drawn to him, knew she had him on her mind, and because of that, she was tense.

Minami held her warmed cheeks with both hands. Blushing at fantasies was so embarrassing. She stood up to go wash her face and cool her head.

But she quickly returned to her original position. Not the one where she was reading a book, but the one where she was right at Minoru’s pillowside. His breathing had suddenly grown ragged.

His painful exhalations were shallow and short. When she put her hand to his forehead, she felt heat. About to ask the front desk for a doctor in her haste, her hand stopped in midair.

Minoru was part of the Kudou family by birth. Someone who directly inherited the blood of the products of the old Lab Nine. Was it right to have a normal doctor look at him?

She wavered. Minoru’s symptoms were not something her own amateur nursing talents could handle. But even so, she couldn’t decide whether to call a doctor.

Then, a solution flashed across her mind:

She should just ask Tatsuya.

Flustered, she took out her information terminal and booted up its voice call function.

Tatsuya received the call from Minami right after he’d gotten out of the commuter.

“Minoru isn’t well? …I see. You were right not to contact the front desk. I’ll give Fujibayashi a call myself… No, it won’t be a problem. She actually told me beforehand to contact her if something happened with his health. She’ll probably have to go to the hotel, so you keep taking care of him normally… No, don’t give him any medicine… Yeah, that’s fine. I know you’ll have a hard time alone, but I’m counting on you… All right, thanks.”

After finishing the call, Miyuki looked up at him from close by with worry.

Warding her off with his eyes, Tatsuya called a number recorded in his terminal.

“Fujibayashi? It’s Shiba. Well, Minoru has fallen ill, and Minami, who’s looking after him, says his breathing has gotten pretty ragged… He’s in room number of the C.R. Hotel… Yes, thank you.”

“Was that Kyouko?” asked Mayumi from next to him, also worried.

“Minoru is feeling worse?” his sister inquired, to which Tatsuya nodded without a word.

“Should we go back?” Masaki wondered, his face serious. Though he’d only met Minoru the previous day, he seemed to be honestly worried for him.

“I contacted his family. They should get to the hotel in around an hour.”

“Someone’s sick? Someone in Kyouko’s family?”

Mayumi hadn’t met Minoru yet.

“The youngest son of the Kudou family. We met once before, and we had him guide us through Kyoto.”

“The Kudous’ youngest son—you mean that Minoru? If I recall, he was frail…”

It was a little surprising that Mayumi knew about Minoru. But after all, the Saegusa weren’t called the most sociable of the Clans for nothing.

Still, she didn’t seem to know the specifics about Minoru’s constitution, either. Drawing from the information that he was prone to illness, she seemed to have thought of a constitution like Mio Itsuwa’s. Mayumi was very close with Mio, so she couldn’t help but envision her when she heard “prone to illness.”

“He is sickly, but apparently, he isn’t feeble. I’m not a doctor, so I don’t know the details, but it’s more like his magical power is so strong that it’s putting too much strain on his body.”

“That can happen?”

Mayumi tilted her head, half doubting, but Miyuki suddenly made a face like she’d just remembered something. “In any case, Ms. Fujibayashi will hurry there, so let’s move on with our investigation as planned.”

Mayumi was acquainted with Fujibayashi as well. Their families had been friends since before Yokohama last year. Naturally, she also knew the link between her and the Kudou family.

Masaki, on the other hand, didn’t know anything about Fujibayashi. But he didn’t make any comment, perhaps deciding not to probe more than necessary.

Nakura’s corpse had been found on the bank of the Katsura River that faced the Moon Crossing Bridge, in Arashiyama Park’s Nakanoshima region. It was around where the small sandbars dotted the water, right before the Katsura River veered southward.

The police’s inspection of the scene seemed to be over already, and Tatsuya and the others walked there without issue. No bloodstains or anything of the sort were left, of course. It may have been possible to spot traces of it by using Elemental Sight and matching it against the data he’d obtained earlier, but he didn’t intend to do something so useless.

“Here?”

“Yes.”

Mayumi nodded to Masaki’s question. Masaki was being very forward-looking with the search.

“Given the river’s flow rate, it doesn’t seem like he drifted here from upstream,” said Miyuki, looking at Tatsuya. His little sister, it seemed, didn’t mesh well with detectives or inspectors.

“Yeah, not much chance of that.”

That was his only answer; he didn’t say it was because the blood had been scattered in this area.

“Shiba, what do you think the situation was?” Masaki asked. “Was the victim, Nakura, standing here, and then the criminal came to him? Or did the criminal get here first and let Nakura approach them?”

“I don’t know,” answered Tatsuya immediately. “We probably won’t figure it out just by thinking about it. We don’t even know if Nakura and the criminal were meeting here, or if Nakura was one-sidedly attacked.”

“True…” Masaki, without showing any needless rebelliousness, agreed with Tatsuya’s opinion.

“What should we do now, Brother?” Miyuki asked.

Tatsuya turned his eyes to Mayumi. “I’d like to check the surroundings. Would you mind?”

Mayumi seemed somewhat surprised at the sudden request, but still, she nodded and said, “Yes. I’m the one who asked you to come with me, so if you have any ideas, I’ll go along with them.”

Rather than following this side of the Katsura River, Tatsuya went over the Moon Crossing Bridge and headed upstream. Still, he wasn’t climbing all the way up to the Hozu Gorge, but rather, the hilly area in the southeastern part of Ogurayama in Arashiyama Park’s Kameyama area.

Acting on the information he’d gotten from the ancient magician they’d met in the tofu restaurant on the approach leading up to Kiyomizu-dera, Tatsuya was headed for the place where Gongjin Zhou was said to be hiding. He hadn’t told this to Mayumi, but she came along without complaint.

It was fairly deep into autumn now, and even Mayumi was in thicker clothes—no sandals were on her feet. But unlike Miyuki, who had gone with a pants-and-sneakers look, Mayumi wore a somewhat long skirt with a wide hem and heeled loafers. One could say she understood what they were doing just because she hadn’t come here in high heels, but it still wasn’t a good outfit for a short hiking course with lots of ups and downs.

Out of necessity, the four’s walking speed became leisurely.

Once they climbed the park hill, there was a sign board saying BAMBOO GROVE ROAD. Tatsuya headed that way without a second thought. His lack of hesitation gave Mayumi a slight feeling that something was wrong.

“Hey, Tatsuya?”

“What is it? Was I going a little too fast?”

Addressed by Mayumi, Tatsuya stopped walking. Masaki and Miyuki stopped with him.

“No, not that.”

Now that they mentioned it, Mayumi realized she was breathing fairly hard. It made sense that Tatsuya and Masaki wouldn’t be out of breath, but seeing that even Miyuki wasn’t struggling made her feel an indescribable unfairness. But she kept a cool face and didn’t show it. In times like these, Mayumi was pretty stubborn.

“Do you have a place in mind? This whole time, you never seemed to wonder where we should be going.”

Upon her pointing it out, Tatsuya realized his own attitude was unnatural. Indeed, Mayumi was right.

He’d been the one to create that suspicion, so it didn’t seem like a good idea to keep the wool over her eyes. But still, he hesitated somewhat at also getting Mayumi involved with this. She might also be a direct descendant of one of the Ten Master Clans, like Minoru, but Minoru was already involved to begin with, and Tatsuya normally never had any contact with Masaki, so he didn’t feel bad no matter what happened to him. Mayumi, however, was closer to him, though not all that much. If he got her involved in his own affairs and let her get hurt, he was pretty sure things would get incredibly troublesome for him. He doubted it would happen, but if it was something they had to demand that he take responsibility for, he might end up having to borrow the help of people he did not want to indebt himself to. Tatsuya didn’t want to ruin their current impression of him by simply helping her out.

What could he say to fool her?

For just a moment, he wondered about it.

But only for a moment—because he didn’t need long.

“Brother!”

Miyuki spread out an Area Interference.

The Demonflame that had flown at him was swallowed in her anti-spell and disappeared. The ancient magic wasn’t a physical flame, but a spell made visible by igniting objects it touched. It couldn’t break through her Area Interference.

Perhaps the opponent had known that, because wind blades attacked them next. The end result was the same, though. Whether they were vacuum blades or compressed-air blades, the caster had to keep applying magic to them to maintain their state, meaning the attacks would naturally dissipate after encountering a powerful Area Interference.

“Ichijou!”

“On it!”

Tatsuya took charge of the front while Masaki took the rear. Immediately, they formed up around Miyuki and Mayumi, protecting them.

Slender ropes stretched out from the bamboo groves to either side, aiming for Miyuki. The ropes tied together in five colors: blue, red, white, black, and yellow.

Tatsuya grabbed hold of them before they reached his sister. A noise resembling Cast Jamming went into him from the braided ropes.

Lariats, used by esoteric Buddhist ancient magicians!

With this technique, instead of spreading psionic noise into the air to prevent magic activation like Cast Jamming, you slung this rope around the opponent and poured the noise into them directly through it, effectively blocking them from casting anything.

Tatsuya didn’t dismantle the lariats themselves, only the noise being sent into him. And then, with all his might, he yanked on the ropes with his hands.

Though Tatsuya was powerful, it wasn’t as if he boasted superhuman strength. Normally, he didn’t have the strength to drag two humans out, one with each hand. But they were too baffled at how their spell was broken by something unexpected. Tatsuya was able to drag them out of their hiding places because he’d taken advantage of that opening.

However, Tatsuya, too, had let something slip. Belatedly, he noticed that other figures had vanished. They’d probably put up a bounded field so that they couldn’t be touched. Instead of wrapping the field over Tatsuya and the others, they had made a wall barring entry to the path ahead of and behind them, thus warding them off.

But if they didn’t have to worry about others watching, that made things convenient for Tatsuya’s group, too.

Masaki caused a gust of wind to push back the lariats flung toward him and Mayumi.

The wind itself was the result of magic, so the magic program wasn’t affected by the lariats, which blocked magical activation.

Loud noises came from the grove, and bamboo leaves fluttered into the air.

Mayumi had used a spell. Dry Blizzard—the original form of her specialty spell, Magic Bullet Shooter, one which caused hail made of dry ice to start falling.

The carbon dioxide density in the air went from 350 ppm to 400 ppm. From 3 in every 10,000 molecules to 4 in every 10,000. The gases seemed to be overflowing, even though in actuality, it barely contained anything. But with this number, even limited to the troposphere, which extended up to 10,000 meters, it also meant the carbon dioxide alone would lower the pressure dramatically, creating a layer of about 2 meters.

The composition of air was distributed uniformly throughout the atmosphere. If you used magic to skew that distribution, the world—or nature, as you might call it—would attempt to correct it. If you gathered a specific atmospheric constituent—in this case, carbon dioxide—into a certain small area, the density of carbon dioxide in the vicinity would drop. In order to correct this, the world would send carbon dioxide into the area in which its density was lowered. This was accomplished through a chain substitution of gas constituents without producing an air current.

On a micro scale, the carbon dioxide–converging process that was needed to create dry ice with magic would, through the air particles moving faster than the speed of sound, cause a chain reaction of substitutions. However, the truly fascinating thing about this phenomenon was that the magician who caused the event alteration at its origin was not involved in this macro, atmospheric-level change in the air composition. By simply and one-sidedly converging the carbon dioxide needed for the dry ice into an incredibly small area, the world would provide the missing materials as it tried to erase the effects of the magic-based event alteration.

In this way, the artificial dry ice hail fell like rain in the bamboo grove. Their speed was far less than the speed of sound, averaging around five hundred to six hundred kph. The bullets, too, were quite a bit lighter compared with lead ones. But the magically hardened pellets were more than fast enough to pierce human skin and flesh.

Six men stumbled out of the bamboo grove. They didn’t show any signs of heavy wounds, probably because they’d protected themselves from the dry-ice bullets with magic. Still, blood seeped from several wounds on their arms and legs.

Meanwhile, the two magicians dragged out by Tatsuya quickly fell victim to a cold wave. Miyuki’s magic didn’t freeze the body; it lowered her target’s internal and external body temperature simultaneously, putting the victim into a cold sleep. Miyuki didn’t want to kill anyone, so Tatsuya had written in a power limiter on the spell’s activation sequence, though it’d been a struggle for him.

Tatsuya swung a flat hand, launching a dismantling spell horizontally along with the motion. He hadn’t brought the Silver Horn this time. Instead, he had a bracelet-shaped specialized CAD on each wrist. By putting several targeting assistance antennae in the bracelets and having them work in tandem, he made up for the antennae being relatively short compared with a gun barrel.

For inputting commands, he used the fully thought-controlled CAD hanging at his chest. This was a new, hands-free style he’d done trial-and-error on.

Still, at this range, Tatsuya didn’t need a CAD, much less targeting assistance, to accurately land his dismantling spell. His aim was true—bamboo was severed just above the heads of the psionic silhouettes that were shaped like people squatting. It may have been a blow to the sightseeing spot, but he decided to shut his eyes to it.

The ones who couldn’t shut their eyes were the Traditionalist magicians who had taken an unknown warning attack. They realized the attack had missed on purpose; faced with that indiscriminate assault, there was no point in remaining hidden.

Either steeling themselves or growing desperate, four people exited the bamboo grove onto the path. With the two they’d taken down first, plus the six in the rear, there were twelve—and one was missing from when Tatsuya had noticed the ambush and done his scan.

“Ichijou.”

“I’m on it!”

Tatsuya was well aware of Masaki’s abilities. He hadn’t been worried to begin with, and as he thought, Masaki didn’t seem to have a problem. Tatsuya decided to finish the four in front first.

Before Masaki’s eyes, the six magicians formed seals. He knew they were ancient magicians who used esoteric Buddhist magic. And so, in that preparatory motion, there was no hesitation.

And behind him, an activation sequence expanded: Mayumi had moved into a magic-casting stance.

Masaki knew exactly what she could do, too.

The eldest daughter of the Saegusa, one of the Ten Master Clans. Former student council president of his rival school, First High, and a genius at long-distance precision-shooting magic.

However.

The Dry Blizzard before—he could tell at a glance that she’d purposely lowered its power. So he didn’t intend to force her to fight now.

Because she’d held back, she’d failed to disable the enemies. She’d succeeded at smoking them out, but in Masaki’s point of view, that was only because their enemies were idiots.

Or maybe they weren’t used to combat. Ancient magicians showing themselves right before modern ones was far from a good idea.

Ancient magic lost out in speed compared with modern magic. This was an undeniable fact. He had heard that ancient magicians of esoteric Buddhism didn’t accept it, though, and devotedly worked on developing casting techniques that would rival modern magic in speed. Esoteric Buddhist magic had always featured a high-speed technique called single-character spells, and based on what he’d heard, they were working on developing that concept further.

But even then, it was impossible to outclass modern magic’s speed. After all, modern magic was a speed-optimized magic born from a fusion of psychic powers and magic.

That was what Masaki had thought.

However.

“Kan!”

Masaki aimed his customary gun-shaped CAD at the same time as the ancient magician said that one word.

A moment later—

even faster than Masaki’s magic could cast—

the caster’s right hand immediately burst into flame.

“What?!”

“What’s that?!”

It didn’t look like an illusion. And in fact, it wasn’t one. The attackers’ clothing, designed to be loose, were the first things that burned. Everything from the right elbow down was the quickest to turn into a black cinder, and the awful smell of burning proteins assailed Masaki’s and Mayumi’s noses.

“Urgh…!”

Mayumi covered her mouth. The stench, more so than the sight, seemed to have made her feel like vomiting.

Arrested with surprise, Masaki watched the scene, forgetting to pull his trigger.

At least, until swords made of flame came out of the magicians’ burning right hands.

The whirling flames coiled like dragons, coalescing into the shape of double-edged swords.

If Mikihiko had been here, he definitely would have called the spell this:

Kurikara Sword.

Two of the men charged forward with swords ready.

Suspicious that all four hadn’t come at once, Masaki tossed the red, gun-shaped CAD in his hand into the air, then brought his other wrist up to operate the multipurpose CAD on it, creating a kinetic vector reflection barrier on the men’s path.

But that barrier was sliced through by one reckless swing of the ancient magicians’ flaming blades.

The Kurikara Sword was a demon-dispelling blade. Swords that cut through “magic.” Did that mean, in other words, they were upgraded with the ability to slice through events altered by magic?

“Impossible!” Masaki shouted in spite of himself, feeling the barrier dissipate.

A sideswiping gust of wind attacked the two mages, ruining their balance.

“Ichijou, magic’ll be cut through!”

Despite the awkward phrasing, Masaki realized what Mayumi’s warning meant. That wind was a natural phenomenon brought about by an event alteration. A phenomenon caused not by the magic itself, but by its effects. Those flame swords couldn’t affect that.

Masaki caught the falling red CAD by the grip with his right hand.

Flicking over the activation sequence selector, he put his finger on the trigger.

The six casters, whose right hands were much thinner now—probably burned straight off—raised their flame swords and, this time, all charged toward them at once.

Looking closely, anguish was evident on their faces.

Masaki then realized they weren’t using this spell because they wanted to.

Even these magicians are puppets.

Marionettes with their wills controlled by magic, rather than strings.

Masaki pointed his red CAD at the six flesh-puppets closing in on him.

Any directly applying magic will be cut down?

My Burst is far superior to any of that.

Six times, Masaki pulled the trigger.

The puppets held their flame swords in front of them, perhaps to defend. But in the end, neither Masaki nor Mayumi would ever know.

The reason being that there was no point to it.

The leg of one of the ancient magicians reduced to living puppets—

The limb burst.

The red blood cells contained within his vaporized blood plasma blossomed out of his torn skin, like flowers scattering into the air.

Masaki had learned a technique for neutralizing opponents without killing them by adjusting the scope of the Burst spell.

Without even a moment in between, the next magician’s leg burst.

Burst.

Burst, burst, and burst.

Six crimson flowers bloomed, then fluttered away in the wind.

One leg each brutally exploded, the six mages fell to the ground.

The flames had disappeared from their hands, their spells perhaps broken by the intense pain.

All the blood vessels in their leg ruptured, their muscles and skin torn asunder, their white bones visible within.

Mayumi covered her mouth at the ghastly sight.

She didn’t vomit—either because of her pride as a Ten member or as a proper lady.

Masaki, however, his back turned, didn’t have a trace of hesitation on his face.

The same phenomenon occurred before Tatsuya, too.

The four casters’ right arms began to blaze.

Everything after that was different.

Instantly, a white chill assailed their arms.

The flames resisted the chill, but the chill devoured the heat, covering the burned skin with ice.

Their flames, which could burn demons to a crisp, buckled under this new “demon’s” power.

Needless to say, it was Miyuki’s magic.

For someone who could freeze the mind itself, freezing a magic program pushing at her from the outside was a simple matter indeed.

Tatsuya pointed a finger at the men’s legs.

All four of their thigh areas erupted with blood at once.

The magicians fell over, writhing in intense pain. That pain turned into noise, vibrating the strings controlling them.

The vibrations traveled in the opposite direction.

There, thought Tatsuya, throwing a sidelong glance at the bamboo grove.

The disturbance in psycheons had vibrated the psion threads, psions that couldn’t escape Tatsuya’s “sight.”

He aimed the fingers on his right hand into the brush.

A spider descended on him from overhead, which he batted away with his left.

The spider, possessing no physical form, dissipated at the same time he heard the scream from the brush.

“Still feels a little awkward,” muttered Tatsuya to himself. He was talking about the combination of CADs he was using: a prototype, bangle-shaped specialized CAD that was called the Silver Torus (not the constellation Taurus, but the geometric figure), which he was testing instead of relying on his usual Silver Horn. At the same time, he was also trying out the fully thought-controlled CAD.

“It looked to me that you used it smoothly and masterfully.”

To that, Miyuki offered the opposite opinion.

Neither of them was worried about the six lying in front of them or the owner of the scream they’d heard from the brush. Tatsuya had captured the “existence” of the immortalist who had passed out from the pain, and Miyuki had absolute faith that her brother would never let captured prey out of his grasp.

Tatsuya threw the immortalist he’d dragged from the brush onto the road. The man was fairly advanced in age, appearing to be at least sixty.

Because of the violence with which he was dragged, the man regained consciousness. He stabbed a long needle into a spot near his waist, evidently to block the pain of being shot through the thigh. Likely a sort of acupuncture or moxibustion technique.

That was the only thing the immortalist did; he showed no signs of resistance. He seemed to understand that the moment he tried to use magic, that intense pain would come back. It was difficult to tell whether to judge it sportsmanlike or simply the actions of someone quick to give up.

“Tatsuya, Ichijou, what do you think we should do now?”

Tatsuya and Masaki exchanged glances.

Masaki was the one who broached the topic first. “Normally, we’d want to interrogate this man, but…” he said, casting a sullen look at the old immortalist sitting on the path. He was the only one who was still conscious out of the whole band of attackers. “I doubt he’ll answer honestly, and now that we’ve taken the ancient magicians down, their bounded field should be gone as well.”

“Meaning…people will come?”

“Yes. We should be able to claim self-defense for having wounded them…but they were the ones who burned their own arms.”

“But interrogation isn’t allowed for civilians. If we’re careless, it could turn into torture… And then we could be the ones arrested by the police on suspicions of malicious arrest, duress, and assault.”

“I feel the same.”

“…How about you, Tatsuya?”

“I doubt you two would be arrested, but I agree with the rest. More importantly, wouldn’t it be wiser to hand them over to the police like we’re supposed to?”

Mayumi, who had been frowning in thought, her lips curled downward, gave a resigned sigh. “I’ll have the police come.”

“Please, allow me to contact them,” Miyuki stated, information terminal already out.

“Thank you, Miyuki.”

While Miyuki called the police, Mayumi and Masaki watched on.

They didn’t notice Tatsuya staring hard at the esoteric Buddhist magicians lying on the ground.

Nor did they notice how Tatsuya’s eyes were gazing slightly above them, unfocused.

Their day search of Arashiyama ended with a police questioning.

Probably because the wounds were so awful. It seemed even the police couldn’t just gloss over things, even with the Saegusa and Ichijou names involved.

They also had the poor fortune of ending up with a detective assigned to the incident who was not friendly toward the Ten Master Clans.

Most detectives in charge of magical crimes were magicians, but not all of them were modern ones. In areas where modern magic factions were strong, such as the Tokyo area, police officers were heavily skewed toward that faction. But in places like Kyoto, where ancient magicians held a certain amount of sway, it was either half-and-half or even biased toward the other side.

The detective who questioned Tatsuya and the others was an ancient magician of the onmyoudou tradition. It was certainly better than him being an esoteric Buddhist, but his antipathy toward the Clans undeniably affected the inquiry. Doggedly suspected of excessive self-defense, they ended up mentally exhausted. Neither Mayumi nor Masaki was short-tempered enough to lose their cool, but anyone with a slightly lower boiling point could have caused a disaster.

Additionally, Tatsuya had his hands full making sure Miyuki didn’t cause a commotion with the detective for suspecting her brother of unjustifiable self-defense.

Eventually, they were released from the police station, and with a salient decrease in their energy levels, they returned to the hotel. When they got back, Fujibayashi was waiting for Tatsuya in the room. Incidentally, Masaki had said he was going back to Kanazawa and headed for the station on his motorcycle. He would be using a long-distance train he could load his bike onto. As for Mayumi, there was an empty room, so she’d gotten a single-bed room at this hotel.

“You both look a little tired.”

That was the first thing Fujibayashi said after a few quick greetings.

“We were held up at the police station.”

“What? Did something happen?”

“I’ll fill you in on the details later, ma’am. More importantly, how is Minoru doing?” Tatsuya asked, sitting down next to Fujibayashi. Miyuki sat next to him and looked at her as well.

Minoru was asleep. He seemed calm as he did so.

“He took some medicine and went to sleep. He was having a pretty hard time until just a little while ago, though,” answered Fujibayashi, her face clouding. Judging by her expression, this was more than simply straining himself a little too much.

“…Listen, Tatsuya. I have a favor to ask.”

“What is it?”

With her eyes still slightly averted, it seemed she had a hard time answering him.

Her “favor” only took concrete form after the second hand of the clock had made a full revolution.

“It’s about Minoru’s body…”

Tatsuya silently awaited her next words.

“He’s healthy from a medical perspective, you know. His immune system and nervous system are both perfectly fine. The doctors say they don’t know why he’s this prone to sickness.”

“You aren’t asking me for medical advice, correct, Lieutenant?”

“No, I’d talk to Dr. Yamanaka if I needed that.”

“Right. Then…?”

“I think—well, it isn’t just me. The scientist working for the Fujibayashi family has the same opinion. We think maybe his psionic body is the reason he tends to get sick so much.”

The psionic body. One of the many names for the eidos recording information of one’s physical body, existing in a layer overlapping with the body. One theory posited they were the truth behind what people had called an “ethereal body” from ages past, but opinions on that were still split.

The psionic body moved in tandem with the physical body. People who had trained to control their body at will could move their body in excess of nerve conduction velocity, without relying on nerve pulses, to control their psionic body. They could also modify their internal organs’ functions as well as strengthen them. The psionic body causing changes in the physical body was a concept not at all foreign to magicians like Tatsuya and the others.

“What would you have me do, then?”

The psionic body affected the physical body. That was a popular way of thinking for magicians. It being popular meant there were also many people researching it. The Fujibayashi family scientist was probably one of them. It didn’t seem to Tatsuya like she’d have something to ask of him specifically.

“…I want you to look at Minoru’s psionic body. With your Elemental Sight.”

Tatsuya widened his eyes in surprise. Not only him, but Miyuki, sitting quietly next to him, also widened her eyes.

“As far as I’m aware, when it comes to analyzing psionic information bodies…Tatsuya, you’re the best. I’m not going to ask you to heal his condition. I was just wondering if you could maybe figure out the cause.”

Well, sure, he might be able to do that. It wasn’t strange for her to think that way, since she knew his abilities.

“Lieutenant Fujibayashi, do you understand what it means to show me something that deeply?”

Tatsuya’s eyes could read the information of what something was made of. What comprised it, how it was created. The cause that produced a current effect.

His “eyes” were structural information-reading eyes—ones that could read cause and effect. Showing his “eyes” that level of detail was equivalent to putting the very root of the person called Minoru Kudou on display.

“I do, and I’m asking anyway. I’ll take responsibility for this.”

“…All right.”

Nobody could take that sort of responsibility. Understanding that, Tatsuya nodded.

And Fujibayashi would have understood that, too. She promised to take responsibility for something she actually couldn’t fully bear the burden of. Tatsuya didn’t know what had her so mentally backed into a corner, but if he was only looking at Minoru’s current condition, and not going back into the past, nothing about it was a negative for Tatsuya. Fujibayashi had helped him out quite a few times, too, so he decided that if she really wanted him to do this, he’d grant her wish.

He directed his eyes at the sleeping young man. If he was asleep due to medicinal effects, he wouldn’t notice the “gaze” directed at him and resist it. And just as Tatsuya suspected, his access to Minoru’s psionic body went smoothly.

“Brother?!”

Timewise, it hadn’t even taken one second. But when Miyuki’s voice dragged him back to reality, a greasy sweat had come onto his brow.

“I’m fine. No need to worry,” he said, giving his sister a smile.

Miyuki offered an expression of relief and immediately stood up, before heading to the bathroom at a trot. When she returned, a moist towel was gripped in her hand.

“I can do it myself.”

“No, Brother. Allow me to do it.”

It wasn’t anything to argue about. Tatsuya let Miyuki wipe the sweat from his face.

“…How did it look, Tatsuya?” asked Fujibayashi after Miyuki finished.

In the span of a moment, Tatsuya had a mountain of things he wanted to say to Fujibayashi—no, to the whole Kudou family. By seeing what lay at Minoru’s core, he’d learned the secret of his birth.

But he swallowed all of that and answered only what he’d been asked.

“As I expected. When I saw how powerful his magic is after hearing that he was prone to illness but not feeble, I’d wondered whether the psionic pressure was too strong for his body to endure.”

“You mean his magical power is too strong, and it’s causing abnormalities in his body?”

“The psionic body is a person’s psionic vessel. Psionic pressure is the same as physical gas pressure in that it’s determined by how many psions are in the vessel and how active they are. In Minoru’s case, his psions are incredibly active, much more so than other magicians.”

“The psionic pressure is causing his psionic body to break down…?”

“This part is a little hard to explain, but the psionic body is a bundle of countless tiny intersecting pipes, turning and twisting—information in the same form as the physical body. Psions run through those pipes, and I believe their pressure has caused some of his pipes to burst, and that breakdown is feeding back into his physical body.”

Fujibayashi was about to let out a cry, but Tatsuya continued before she could.

“I’m not sure if I should call it fortunate, but the broken pipes are made of the same stuff as the psions that caused them to break. If his psions are active, that means the psionic body’s recovery is operating properly, too. The cycle of breakdown and repair of the psionic body is being conducted in a short cycle. I believe that may be the cause of Minoru’s condition.”

“Then they don’t stay broken…”

“I think his recovery abilities are actually higher than an average magician’s, too.”

A look of relief washed over Fujibayashi’s face. But soon, the clouds of gloom came back to her pretty features. “But what should we do…?”

“You could suppress the psionic activity directly, but that would mean restraining his abilities as a magician. I doubt either he or his family would want his magical power to decrease. Which means the only way to fix the problem is to strengthen his psionic body.”

“How do we do that?”

“I don’t know.”

Fujibayashi hung her head, hiding her expression. She probably didn’t want him to see the conflict on her face.

If one was to consider Minoru’s health most important, limiting his magical power was certain to do the trick. But Minoru’s magic—being a magician of exceptional quality was his identity.

Tatsuya doubted Minoru would be happy if he got a healthy body in exchange for limiting his magical power. But it was doubtlessly more painful for the family than him to watch him live four months of every year in a sickbed.

“…Thanks. It’s enough that we know this much now. I’ll try asking an expert in the future,” said Fujibayashi, still downcast.

Minoru woke up about thirty minutes after that. By then, Fujibayashi had fully recovered, too. Or maybe she was trying hard not to let Minoru see how awful her face looked.

“Minoru, how do you feel?” Tatsuya asked.

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Minoru deeply lowered his head. Or at least, he tried to. The motion stopped halfway when Tatsuya held up his palm in front of him.

“No need to apologize. If you’d collapsed because you neglected your health, that would be one thing. But this is because of your constitution, right? You’re not at fault. I can’t agree with apologies when it’s not even your responsibility.”

Tatsuya’s voice was fairly firm. It was less a comforting, consoling tone than a reproving one. Tatsuya had scolded him not to feel overly guilty about things and, by doing so, had encouraged him.

“Sorry… Er, I mean, thank you.”

Minoru lowered his eyes. This time, Tatsuya didn’t say anything, either.

“Anyway, Tatsuya—” began Fujibayashi, about to say she was ready to hear the police story she’d missed before.

“We’re back! Tatsuya, Miyuki? You’re early. Oh—Lieutenant Fujibayashi, right?”

“Wait, Lieutenant Fujibayashi’s here? Oh. ’Sup. Tatsuya, you got back before us.”

“Hello, Tatsuya. Umm, and hello again, Lieutenant Fujibayashi.”

Mikihiko and the others, who had been at the Thesis Competition venue, returned then. They all looked surprised that Fujibayashi was here.

“I’m not on military duty right now, so would you mind dropping the Lieutenant? Fujibayashi is fine.”

Fujibayashi met their surprise with an adult smile. Erika was fine with it, since she was a girl, too, and Leo also had on his normal face. The remaining person showed a normal boyish response. Perhaps it was a good thing Mizuki wasn’t here.

Erika sat across from the futon in which Minoru lay. In contrast to Miyuki’s elegant sitting, Erika sat in a decorous seiza position; it was picturesque, each with a different charm.

“Minoru, how are you doing?”

“I’m, er, I’m fine now. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Erika was certainly a beauty, but objectively speaking, Minoru’s features were better-looking. Getting flustered at her friendly smile regardless was a very age-appropriate, cute thing to do. Part of that may have been his situation, in which no girls his age around him would interact with him the way Erika did—friendly to put it in good terms, and overly familiar to put it in bad.

“Oh, okay.”

Erika, too, knew it wasn’t the time or the place to tease Minoru for his inexperienced reaction.

Tatsuya reseated himself to face the center of the room. Miyuki, too, followed suit, edging closer to him. Fujibayashi moved to Minoru’s side, and in exchange, Minami moved to Miyuki’s. Erika moved straight across from Tatsuya, and then Leo and Mikihiko sat down as well. Now they were all sitting in a circle.

“Let’s trade information on what happened today,” Tatsuya prompted.

“I’ll start.” Mikihiko nodded. “Though, there’s almost nothing to discuss. We didn’t find any places where suspicious people might be hiding. No response from my shikigami, either. And a lot of police magicians were out on patrol, maybe because of what happened yesterday. With all of them around, I don’t know if even foreign secret agencies could cause anything like last year.”

“I guess it’s thanks to you that the Thesis Competition will be safe, since you risked your lives yesterday.”

“Risked our lives… Well, I guess you could put it that way.”

Mikihiko looked unsatisfied, and next to him, Erika and Leo were arguing—“Yeah, it’s your job to risk your life, huh?” and “What was that?!”—but nobody paid any attention to them.

“Anyway, we did get somewhere with preparing for the Thesis Competition, but nowhere with searching for foreign operatives.”

“Just the guys we captured yesterday should be enough. The police seem to be on the case with their hideout, so we can leave that up to the authorities. And searching for operatives is supposed to be the police’s job anyway.”

“Brother, saying that won’t get us anywhere.”

With Miyuki putting in her two cents, Tatsuya took a turn at being the reporter. “We were attacked at the foot of Ogurayama.”

“The foot of Mount Ogura,” Minoru murmured. “The Kameyama region of Arashiyama Park?”

Responding with a nod, Tatsuya continued his explanation. “There were thirteen attackers in all. Twelve esoteric Buddhist magicians and one defected immortalist. We handed them all over to the police.”

“I expected that from Tatsuya, Miyuki, and the heir to the Ichijou family. You could throw ten times that at them and they wouldn’t care.”

“They weren’t easy opponents.”

Grinning dryly at Erika’s words, Tatsuya suddenly remembered the doubts he’d had earlier.

“Mikihiko, the attackers were using fire to make these double-edged swords with snakes or dragons coiled around them. Do you know what kind of spell that was?”

Mikihiko, suddenly questioned, wasn’t able to respond right away, but even so, he produced an answer within ten seconds. “…That must have been the spell Kurikara Sword.”

“The one Acala is said to possess?”

“Yes. The spell models itself on Acala’s demon-slaying sword and borrows its power. The symbolic power is the destruction of demons. Applied in modern magic terms, it would be a type of anti-magic spell that destroys magic programs, which have been overwritten by eidos by coming in contact with a target in the process of casting magic.”

“Huh… Pretty cool that ancient magic has a spell like that.”

Mikihiko frowned at the words Erika let slip. It had felt like the remark of a modern magician looking down on ancient magic. But Erika frequently said insensitive things without trying to be mean. He changed his mind, figuring it was a little too late to go fault-finding with her.

“But I’m surprised you ran into magicians skilled enough to used advanced magic like that. Because of how it works, the Kurikara Sword disables the caster’s own magic as well, so it’s incredibly hard to maintain.”

“What if they tried to use it anyway?”

“They wouldn’t be able to. The spell’s casting point is the caster’s hand—the Kurikara Sword disables any magic its flames touch. It’s not enough to just avoid touching the blade. You need to maintain a little distance between the materialized flame sword and the hand. Any magician without that technical skill would never be able to use it… Of course, if another magician had used a spell to force them to use it, then it’s a different story.”

“If they were forced to use it, what would happen to them?”

“It would set their hand on fire.”

“What?!” cried out Erika, leaning back. Miyuki frowned in distaste.

“It may be given form with magic, but the Kurikara Sword’s flames are the real thing, materialized. If someone made you hold on to something like that for a while, of course it would set your hand on fire. I hear rumors of terrible spells that burn a person’s arm in order to construct the sword with it, but that’s not a demon-slaying sword. It would be more like a demon’s people-slaying sword.”

Tatsuya and Miyuki furtively exchanged glances. With their eye contact, they decided not to go into the details.

“I see. They must have been pretty experienced, then.”

“You guys are amazing for beating them unharmed.”

“Miyuki and Ichijou deserve the credit. Anyway, I wanted to talk about what we do now.”

“Huh? Aren’t we checking out of the hotel and going back to Tokyo today?”

As Erika said, their plans were originally to check out in the evening, though it was irregular, and return to Tokyo.

“You should all go back to Tokyo as planned. I’m going to be staying another night. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the police again and ask about the guys they arrested today.”

“Brother, in that case, allow me to—”

“Miyuki.” Tatsuya cut off his sister halfway through. “You’re the student council president. You shouldn’t be taking two straight days off school at a time like this.”

Tatsuya was more important than school for Miyuki, but she was powerless to resist the strongly worded order.

“…All right.”

“Then I’ll come, too! I’ve got plenty of connections in the police.”

“Erika… Skipping school isn’t very admirable.”

“Skipping school?! How rude!”

With Erika turning away from him, Tatsuya turned to Mikihiko. “And the disciplinary committee chairman being absent two days in a row wouldn’t be good, either.”

“What, so you’re fine?”

“My position demands I do a little bit more investigating on something.”

Mikihiko and Leo both knew Tatsuya’s position. Erika had caught on to even more of the details than them. With that said, they had no choice but to back down.

After seeing Miyuki and the others off at the station, Tatsuya went back to the hotel. It took a lot of work to get Miyuki on the train, but he managed to return her to Tokyo. He’d been prepared to change his plan when she’d clasped his right hand in hers and said “Please, Brother, be careful…” with tears in her eyes, but that hadn’t been necessary.

With Minoru’s condition stable, Fujibayashi ended up bringing the young man home. Minoru seemed to want to go with him on the following day’s search, but he already had too many school absences. Firmly admonished by his older sister Fujibayashi, he agreed to go home.

Fortunately, the hotel had an empty room. Moving from a Japanese-style room, which was too big for one person, to a western-style single, Tatsuya was now sitting in the lounge face-to-face with Mayumi.

“I suppose I can’t tell you that you should be going to school, huh?”

“Not at all. Something came up that I need to look into a little more closely.”

“Something…for your other job?”

There were others in the lounge. They couldn’t put up a soundproof field in a place like this. Mayumi chose to disguise her words in another way.

“Yes, so you don’t need to worry about anything.”

“Honestly, I appreciate you saying that. I felt like I was more than a minor nuisance today.”

Tatsuya shook his head, then changed the topic. “About tomorrow, would you mind staying here for me?”

“Here… You mean at the hotel?!”

Tatsuya nodded, and Mayumi’s mood visibly worsened. “Am I that much of a hindrance? I mean, maybe I didn’t help very much today, but—”

“That’s not it,” Tatsuya reassured with a smile and a shake of his head. “I consider your abilities to be quite high,” he asserted, peering directly into her eyes.

Mayumi’s cheeks flushed, and she looked away. “Then why are you leaving me here?”

“It isn’t because it’ll be dangerous.”

Mayumi had probably figured he’d tell her it was too dangerous. She looked back at Tatsuya with an expression of surprise.

“At the rate we’re going, we’ll never see an end to this. Tomorrow, I’m going to be somewhat more forceful with how I approach things. I don’t want civilians to have to see it. Especially not a lady like you.”

Mayumi once again averted her eyes. “I…I’ll be fine. I may not look like it, but I’m used to roughhousing.”

She certainly did make it through the Yokohama battlefield, and she’d fought against Ganghu Lu, the Man-Eating Tiger, as well. She might have been fine with roughhousing, but her tongue had grown rather dubious.

“Even so. I’m the one who doesn’t want to be seen,” he said, resignation mixed into his voice.

Eyes still averted, Mayumi began to play with her fingers restlessly. “If that’s how it is, then, well, I suppose there’s no helping it.”

As she ended the sentence, face fully away from his, her body suddenly gave a start, as though she’d just realized something.

“…Whoa, whoa.”

Mayumi returned her gaze to Tatsuya. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

“I almost fell for the same old trick again.”

Tatsuya put up his hands and shook his head, feigning ignorance, while the woman stared at him thinly. “I wasn’t trying to pull one over on you. I’m serious—I wouldn’t want a civilian to see this.”

“You can’t fool your senior that easy.”

Mayumi was still staring hard at him. Internally, Tatsuya was nonplussed. He couldn’t recall ever having deceived Mayumi or trapping her. She seemed to have some kind of odd idea in her mind.

Not wanting a civilian, especially a woman, to see was undeniably the truth. But there was nothing to be gained by having a staring contest like this.

“…All right,” Tatsuya finally sighed. “But in exchange, promise not to pass out—no matter what—all right?”

So warned, Mayumi preened. “I’ll be fine. Despite my appearance, I am an adult, you know.”

An unreliable one, thought Tatsuya, but he would never say that out loud, of course.

“Oh, good, you made it back.”

“I was so anxious because you weren’t with me, Brother.”

“It’s okay. I was watching the whole time. I never let you out of my vision.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for. In fact, now I’m the one who feels sorry. I’ll definitely come home tomorrow, so make sure to lock up before going to bed tonight.”

“Come, Brother. How young do you think I am?”

“You’re my little sister no matter how old you get.”

“…I believe those words are for a parent to say to their daughter.”

“But you wouldn’t want our father saying it, would you?”

“I suppose not… As you command, I will be sure to lock up extra carefully and then go to sleep. Good night, Brother.”

“It’s a little early, but good night, Miyuki.”

Right after the call from Miyuki ended, there was a knock at the door of Tatsuya’s room.

Moving right up to the door, he turned on the monitor placed there. On it was a dressed-up Mayumi.

“What’s going on? It’s late,” asked Tatsuya as he opened the door. It was still only eight PM, but a young woman shouldn’t be visiting the room of a man who wasn’t her boyfriend by herself at this hour.

That’s what Tatsuya thought, at least. Mayumi seemed to have other ideas.

“Tatsuya, you haven’t had dinner yet, right? Want to go eat?”

She was right—he hadn’t. But he’d planned to have simple fare in a cheap restaurant nearby. He hadn’t intended to use the hotel’s high-class restaurant…

“At the restaurant here, you mean?”

“Yes—the French place in the basement. When I asked the front desk earlier, they said there were openings, so I got ahead of myself and made a reservation.”

It seemed already decided that he’d be escorting her.

He had to take caution to make sure his expression didn’t sour.

“All right. I’ll get changed, so could you wait in the lobby?”

“Oh, you’re fine like that.”

“No, I could never go in this.”

Mayumi’s outfit was a black, A-line dress with a matching black lace gown on top—both chic and pretty. Her shoes and accessories complemented the outfit, too, so he couldn’t possibly sit with her in his normal clothes.

Tatsuya flashed a pained grin and shut the door.

“Wow! Tatsuya, that looks really good on you!”

“Not as much as yours does, Saegusa.”

Tatsuya’s words weren’t modesty, but his actual feelings. His outfit was nothing but a suit and a necktie, enough to meet the bare minimum dress code; he’d brought it here in case of emergency.

“Let’s get seated, then.”

The restaurant wasn’t as formal as Tatsuya had anticipated. There were no waiters, only a waitress to show them to their table.

“After you.”

Tatsuya went behind Mayumi and pulled her chair out.

“Oh, well, thank you.” She tossed a smile over her shoulder and sat.

After settling in across from her, Tatsuya waited for Mayumi to pick up her menu before opening his own. It was the kind printed on paper, unusual in this day and age.

“What’ll you have, Tatsuya?”

“Let’s see. I’ll probably have the main course.”

“I see. The à la carte sounds fun, but maybe a regular meal is safer at a place we’ve never been to.”

With that sort of exchange, both of them ordered the main course in the end.

Nothing noteworthy happened while they were eating. They didn’t know who might be listening, so they couldn’t exactly talk about the incidents they’d been dealing with. Halfway through the meal, Mayumi had muttered about how inconvenient it was not to be able to use a soundproof field, but that was the only time Tatsuya warned her with his eyes.

He’d learn something in these two days. The people of Kyoto were hostile toward magicians. He’d thought they’d be friendly or, at the very least, neutral, since the Magic Association’s main location was here, but the reality was quite the opposite.

Has there been some trouble between the Association and the local residents?

The situation was bad enough to make him consider the possibility. That was why he adjusted his CAD slightly higher up his wrist to completely hide it in his sleeve. He decided it was best to avoid saying or doing anything that might give him away.

Additionally, Mayumi wasn’t wearing one at all. Whether it was so she didn’t provoke those nearby or simply because it didn’t match her outfit, though, he wasn’t sure.

The real trouble came after they finished their dessert, while they were enjoying their postmeal coffee. Specifically when Mayumi suggested going to the bar.

“…I know you don’t need me to tell you this, but I’m still in high school.”

“Oh, come on. Not a single person thinks of you as a high school student anymore. You don’t even look like one with the uniform on.”

Mayumi’s remark was an innocent one—but that innocence was what delivered such a boring shock to Tatsuya.

The shock must have worked, because Tatsuya ended up being dragged in front of the bar against his will.

Just before they went in, Mayumi turned around and brought her mouth close to Tatsuya’s ear. “No calling me Saegusa here. Call me Mayumi, okay?”

“…Why?”

Tatsuya’s response came a moment later. He’d uncharacteristically allowed Mayumi to catch him off balance.

“Well, being too formal just makes it sound like we’re in school, doesn’t it? I already call you Tatsuya anyway.”

What in the world was she up to?

“If they think we’re students, it’ll be trouble.”

After adding on a seemingly forced reason, Mayumi looped her arm around Tatsuya’s and dragged him into the bar.

It was a cozy place, with only one counter. The only other guests were a couple near the back. The bartender only gave them a glance as they entered, then continued stirring cocktails.

Tatsuya had Mayumi sit on the opposite end of the counter, then sat beside her.

“An Alexander, please. Tatsuya, what do you want?”

“One Summer Delight.”

The well-tanned bartender turned his eyes to stare at Tatsuya. But he nodded without saying anything, grabbing a measuring cup.

Looking more closely, the bartender was less tan than leathery—his skin was firm, like his body had been well-trained in the sun. His movements, too, were sharp, and he gave the impression of someone who had undergone very specific combat training in the past. Tatsuya couldn’t help but wonder what the man used to do.

“Why something nonalcoholic?”

But Mayumi seemed more interested in Tatsuya’s order itself. A Summer Delight was made of lime juice, syrup, and carbonated water. As she said, it was a nonalcoholic cocktail.

“Please, I beg mercy, my lady.”

“Huh?”

“As your humble bodyguard, I mustn’t dull my movements should something happen.”

“Huh? What?”

Mayumi probably wanted to enjoy pretending to be lovers. But it went against Tatsuya’s creed to let someone else pilot his ship.

The bartender, rumbling a shaker hard, poured the slightly brown, cream-colored liquid into a footed glass, then placed it in front of Mayumi.

The one he addressed was not Mayumi, but Tatsuya.

“Are you serving as her bodyguard, sir? If I may, you look quite strong despite your youth.”

“I’m still in training.”

“How modest of you.”

The bartender took out a new shaker, then poured lime juice and red grenadine syrup into it, adding in a little bit of sugar syrup.

He shook it more lightly than last time. After adding the contents to the carbonated water in the glass, he placed the completed drink in front of Tatsuya.

“If I may be so rude, sir…” prefaced the bartender, moving his face closer to Tatsuya. The couple sitting on the other end of the bar were off in their own little world and didn’t seem to be listening to them.

“Would you happen to be a magician?”

Tatsuya didn’t let surprise show on his face. “If you knew that, would that make you a magician as well?”

The couple in the back got out of their seats. The bartender gave a polite bow and saw them off.

As he cleaned up after them, he continued the interrupted conversation.

“It was a long time ago, sir. I lost my magician’s abilities during a training accident.”

“Is that so? I’m terribly sorry.”

The bartender looked up and shook his head at Tatsuya’s apology. “Like I said, sir, it was a long time ago. And I was the one who started this conversation.”

And then Mayumi broke in with a peeved voice. “Can I get another, please?”

“My lady,” Tatsuya quipped again, “I believe you may be rushing things—”

“I’m fine. And I don’t need any sass from my abstinent nondrinker Tatsuya.”

She didn’t seem to appreciate how the conversation had turned. Or maybe she didn’t like their newfound roles he’d created.

“I’m terribly sorry.”

The bartender apologized, interpreting it as his own fault, then went back to washing, a wry grin on his face.

But Tatsuya wasn’t about to halt their conversation just yet.

“There is something I would like to know, if that’s all right.”

The bartender gave him a look asking if it was okay to leave her hanging, but Tatsuya didn’t feel any need to improve Mayumi’s mood.

“Did something happen between the Magic Association and the people of Kyoto?”

“Why that question, sir?”

“It may be my imagination, but to me, it seems the people here don’t have a very good impression of magicians.”

“Ah, so you noticed that the people from Kyoto aren’t so friendly to our type.”

The bartender wiped his hands with a towel. With his hands now dry, he started polishing the glasses. Tatsuya saw it, thinking maybe his dedication to not using machines was to more properly play the role of the bartender, a measure to maintain the look and feel of a bar.

“There wasn’t any particularly major trouble. It was more of a series of minor differences. All things that people who came from somewhere else tend to do. With the people doing it happening to be magicians, though, the people here have reacted more extremely.”

As Tatsuya made a face like that was hard to swallow, the bartender offered a plate with a piece of chocolate on it. “For the young lady.”

“Thank you.”

Tatsuya took the plate and put it in front of Mayumi. She took the piece and put it in her mouth, then turned her cheek almost audibly at him.

He and the bartender exchanged pained grins.

The bartender, still smiling with his eyes, continued to talk. “I believe it was because Kyoto was chosen to host the Magic Association’s main headquarters. Kyoto residents may feel as though magicians have taken over the city.”

“Taken over? Any magicians living here are residents of Kyoto, too.”

“Ever since I lost my magic, I’ve come to understand how terrifying the existence of a magician is to someone who can’t use magic. If magic is used on someone who has no magical ability, there’s nothing they can do. More than that—they’ll be hurt or have precious things lost, before they even know what’s happened. And in the worst case, they could be killed. And I know what you’re about to say.”

The bartender stopped Tatsuya, who was about to speak.

“Nobody can do anything against a gun, either. But think about it the other way—gun ownership can be regulated, but magic ownership can’t. For nonmagician locals, magicians are strangers from somewhere else who carry invisible guns and full stocks of ammunition they can never be separated from. Kyoto isn’t special in that regard. It’s something that can happen anywhere.”

Mayumi’s gait upon exiting the bar was fairly dubious.

I told her three was too many.

Tatsuya was complaining to himself, but it made no difference now. He hadn’t known that cocktail had over 20 percent alcohol, either.

“Here’s your room, Saegusa. Please get a grip.”

“Urm… Thanks, so much, Tatsuya.”

Mayumi looked like she was about to fall over and go to sleep on the spot. They got to her room fine, though, so that would have been mission accomplished for Tatsuya.

“Krrr…”

Seeing Mayumi about to slide down into a seated position in front of her door, though, even he couldn’t just up and leave now.

“Saegusa, where’s your key?”

“Right here!”

Mayumi waved her card key around. And then, for some reason, she went to slip it inside her cleavage. Tatsuya quickly snatched it away before she could.

…What was she trying to get me to do anyway?

Feeling a slight shudder, Tatsuya unlocked the door and went inside.

Fortunately, the common development of underwear being scattered all over the room didn’t come to pass.

“Saegusa, if you want to sleep, then get into bed.”

“Okay!”

Tatsuya had learned something: Mayumi was the type to revert to childish tendencies when drunk. He had a feeling there were a lot of that type around him. It was better than complaining drunks and crying ones, but it still required some work.

Stepping toward her bed, he hastily supported Mayumi right before she fell.

He brought her over to the bedside.

“Here’s your bed, Saegusa. You should take off your clothes first. Your dress will get all wrinkled.”

Mayumi held up both hands in front of Tatsuya.

“…What is it?”

“Take them off!”

He’d seen that one coming, and now his head was starting to hurt in earnest.

Monday, October 22. Tatsuya had once again come to Sagano, Arashiyama. This was the spot where he’d been attacked by ancient magicians the previous day.

Mayumi, saying she didn’t feel well, was resting in the hotel—suffering from a hangover, needless to say. Tatsuya considered that the only plus to come from last night’s events.

No sign of any police. At least, none doing any investigations into the incident the previous day. The Ten Master Clans–hating detective didn’t seem to care to do a real investigation into it. Or maybe some other emergency cropped up. Either way, police oversight had been one of the things Tatsuya was concerned about, so this was a good thing.

Standing at the scene, he recalled the information he’d read the previous day. He’d gotten his data from a source who was in a cold sleep, wounded, and unconscious at the time—which kept any obstructing psionic wave emission to a minimum. From that man, he’d discerned the location of the group to which that ancient magician had belonged to—their hideout.

If he headed straight through the bamboo grove, he’d stand out more than necessary. He headed down the path instead, comparing the data in his memory to the map he called up on his information terminal.

He found his destination pretty easily.

It was an average house, albeit a large one. Actually, with how large it was, maybe it couldn’t be called average.

At a glance, the building looked like a town center, the likes of which still remained in certain areas.

Tatsuya scanned the building with Elemental Sight in such a way as to not reveal himself. They didn’t seem to have any particular traps set up to prevent intrusion. Without hesitation, Tatsuya slipped through the gate.

Even after getting onto the grounds, he didn’t particularly sense any magic. But he’d verified after looking from the outside that it wasn’t just an empty shell.

He placed a hand on the sliding door. Naturally, it was locked. A double lock, requiring both an electronic key and a physical one. Unfortunately, Tatsuya couldn’t open either. He didn’t have any magic that convenient. Instead, he decided to open the door with the magic he had on hand.

The door’s lock broke into pieces.

Just like when he’d gone through the gate, he opened the door without any hesitation and went inside. Immediately, wheel-shaped weapons flew at him. Circular blades, each with eight radial spokes. It was an esoteric Buddhist spell tool called a magic wheel, though they seemed to be using it like a projectile weapon.

After Tatsuya avoided the deadly wheel, it stopped in midair before crashing through the door, then veered back along its initial trajectory. The one coming from another direction also turned and went back in the same way. Looking closely, thin psionic threads extended from them.

Yo-yos?

Their motions were the spitting image of the classic toys—which would make dealing with them easy, too. As he dodged the magic wheels again, which now numbered four, he dismantled the psionic threads.

The chakrams continued on through the door and outside.

He sensed confusion from near the wall. After dismantling the four threads, Tatsuya made a jump toward the caster, who was hidden with optical camouflage.

He could tell the transparent figure, shimmering like a mirage, had readied something like a dagger, with a blade on either side of the grip. This, too, was an esoteric Buddhist spell tool called a dokkosho. And the fact that it was reformed as a weapon was the same as the yo-yo-like magic wheels before.

Tatsuya detected a magic program for launching lightning attacks that was projected onto either end of the dokkosho. However, the eidos overwrite wasn’t complete. Ignoring the precast magic, Tatsuya used flash casting to cast an oscillation spell one meter from the palm of his hand, then rammed it into the figure’s chest.

Due to the virtual wave motion caused by the oscillating waves onto the solid body, the same sort also used in Active Air Mine, the body tissue one millimeter below the skin vibrated uncontrollably, starting from the point that his palm had touched. The vibrations traveled through the man’s bodily fluids and spread to his upper body, and then he crumpled. With his optical camouflage dispelled, he was wearing the same outfit as the previous day’s attackers.

As an invisible person—invisible through optical camouflage, rather than his body structure itself being invisible—approached from behind, Tatsuya crouched and swept his leg around in a wide arc reminiscent of Chinese martial arts. It wasn’t to cause the opponent to trip brilliantly over his leg, but to trap the man’s outstepped foot with his own.

The invisible man wobbled. And within that shimmering mirage, the man’s back was visible.

A palm strike loaded with an oscillation spell. The second person fell to the floor.

“I know where you are even if you’re invisible. Why not stop this futile effort and show yourselves?”

Men of varying ages began to appear from the mirages in answer to Tatsuya’s provocation. They numbered ten. Fortunately, none were women. Tatsuya wasn’t the type to hold back just because someone was female, but it was more difficult for him.

“Why aren’t Marici’s methods working…?!”

Because your magic shows a lack of experience, was what Tatsuya wanted to say. If Yakumo, for instance, had used the same technique, even Tatsuya wouldn’t have had an easy time pinning him down.

“Bind him and eradicate him!”

One of the men barked the order. He didn’t appear to be the oldest, but Tatsuya definitely felt the strongest magical power from him. He set his target to that man.

Tatsuya purposefully proceeded to the middle of the floor. The room was boarded, like a place for kendo, with no furniture to get in the way. So it wasn’t a town center, but a dojo, he thought, even though it wasn’t the time for that.

Surrounding Tatsuya, the ten magicians moved around him in even intervals.

A regular decagon. Two regular pentagons with one shifted three-hundred-sixty degrees—or two alternating pentagrams.

Five magicians, leaving one in between each pair, threw lariats at the same time.

Not toward Tatsuya, but toward their comrades diagonally in front of him.

Those who threw the lariats grabbed the end of other lariats thrown by the others.

A pentagram constructed with five-colored lariats.

Tatsuya was looking at it from above.

The pentagram was likely a technique for pressuring someone in the middle from five directions and strangling them.

But Tatsuya wasn’t obligated to stand idly right in the middle of the enemies until the circle’s completion. As soon as the lariats were thrown, he’d jumped straight up.

Kicking off the air before he reached the ceiling, he headed for one of the pentagram’s vertices.

A flying kick, one seldom used in matches. But it was also a surprisingly practical skill to catch the opponent off guard.

He’d created a foothold with magic, then sprung off it to accelerate his kick; it slammed into one caster’s face with the force of all his body weight plus that speed.

The pentagram fell apart. But that wouldn’t be the only thing in their hand.

Before he fell, Tatsuya landed on the floor, flinging a knee out at the magician next to him.

A spell triggered only when creating a foothold. Such a magical fighting technique was only possible with flash-cast speed.

The esoteric Buddhist magicians gathered here were not physically weak by any means. They were still first-rate brawlers who attached importance to the more rigorous asceticisms. But it only mattered if they could fight normally. Tatsuya’s acrobatic movements were something they virtually couldn’t keep up with.

The enemy ancient magicians were only able to respond to his surprise attack when they’d been culled to five.

Right before the sixth, or the eighth if including the first two, received Tatsuya’s attack, the caster behind him loosed an electric attack toward Tatsuya.

If it had been modern magic, he would have directly produced an electric current in the target.

But one of the traits of ancient magic was that electric attacks were launched from a single point—the caster, or a spot in the air—at the target.

In terms of electric attack magic, the difference didn’t normally cause a problem. The speed at which the electricity traveled toward the target was one hundred thousand kilometers per second. It arrived at the target instantly. It wasn’t possible to be aware of the electric attack first, then dodge it.

Right before the electric attack spell had gone off, Tatsuya had stopped his attack and jumped far to the side.

The caster trying to land the attack lost sight of where Tatsuya was. However, it was too late for him to stop his spell.

The lightning bolt fired from his dokkosho spell tool caused friendly fire.

Confronted by the reality of the situation, the others hesitated to use magic at all.

The opening this provided was more than enough time for Tatsuya.

Granted speed equal to self-acceleration magic by using reflective force fields as footholds, Tatsuya knocked out every last one of the ancient magicians.

The ancient magician acting as this base’s leader awoke to intense pain shooting through his body.

His thoughts were scrambled. He would have stayed unconscious, except the pain was too intense to allow him to.

“Come to? If you understand what I’m saying, nod. I’ll lighten the pain a bit.”

The only thing that made it into the man’s mind was that this pain would lessen, so he exerted himself to bob his head up and down.

As promised, the pain lightened a little.

His vision, blurred by the agony, cleared up just a little bit.

It was a young man.

The man had a biker helmet hiding his face, and he was straddling him.

The leader tried to form a seal and use an art.

That instant, a mind-bleaching pain assailed him.

“None of that, now. Just answer my questions.”

The leader strained to nod, indicating he’d obey the voice.

The terrible pain grew slightly lighter.

This time, only a little of his thoughts returned—his vision remained blurred.

“Gongjin Zhou was here, right? A Chinese Taoist who fled from Yokohama Chinatown.”

Without even considering the idea of lying, the leader nodded earnestly.

“And that man was here until Friday the twelfth. Is that right?”

The twelfth, the twelfth… The leader thought as hard as he could, but his head wasn’t working right. And then, remembering that Gongjin Zhou had indeed departed here on Friday, he nodded several times.

“Where did he say he was going?”

A newly horrific pain washed over the leader. Strangely, however, his thoughts alone cleared.

His eyes were hazy, and he couldn’t move his limbs, not even his fingers. And yet, his mouth moved freely.

“Said he was…going to Uji. Said there’s a good hiding place near the Futagozuka Burial Mound…didn’t say any more…don’t know if…lying or telling the truth.”

“Your subordinates were being used as puppets by a Chinese immortalist. Did you permit that?”

“I am…not their master…not in a position…to order them…”

“But you’re their leader, right?”

“They’re comrades…we are equal…we don’t give or take orders…”

“I see. Thank you.”

A moment later, the most tremendous pain of all shot through the man. His mind shut off, a circuit breaker tripped within it.

Tatsuya sent Fujibayashi a message, telling her this location and that he’d knocked out the Traditionalist magicians. He figured it would be redundant to add in a request at the end that she come take the ancient magicians into custody. He didn’t have to actually write that out for Fujibayashi to arrange for their pickup.

He weighed the validity of the information he’d gotten out of this base’s leader. It was hard to believe their group had no clear command structure. Group combat coordinated only through the sharing of a common purpose didn’t seem possible.

But the part about where Gongjin Zhou was hiding did match the information he’d gotten from the conjurer at Kiyomizu-dera. He couldn’t discard the possibility that the former esoteric Buddhist monks here were in league with the conjurer to provide him false information, but if he went so far as to doubt that, he’d need to doubt countless other things. One needed to know where the cutoff point was.

He decided that after he got home, he’d report to Hayama that it was highly possible Gongjin Zhou was hiding out in the vicinity of the Futagozuka Burial Mound in Uji.

With that settled, Tatsuya returned to the hotel only to be welcomed back by Mayumi, who was offended but was also averting her eyes in embarrassment. She told him off for some time, and while her mouth produced statements regarding his coldheartedness and his reneging on promises, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes never met his.

He had an idea as to why she seemed so embarrassed.

Last night, Tatsuya had received the unreasonable demand from a young woman (meaning Mayumi) that he take off the clothes she was wearing. Finally fed up with everything, he had quickly stripped her dress off, tossed her underwear-clad being into bed, and left the room without looking back.

Even though it had been an ordeal and a half, he was still grateful she had thrown herself upon him, rather than a guy who would’ve taken advantage of the situation.

“Er, by the way…”

Having rallied off so many firm complaints before now, Mayumi suddenly began to trip over her own tongue.

“Well, there was just, I guess, something I wanted to ask you.”

How nice it would be to say “I refuse” or “I have the right to remain silent,” Tatsuya thought blackly. He’d realized from her attitude what she was about to ask.

“I…”

And then, despite knowing they were in a room alone together, she looked around as though nervous she’d be overheard, and brought her lips closer to Tatsuya’s face.

“…Why was I sleeping in my underwear?”

He very much wanted to retort because you told me to take your clothes off, but he couldn’t possibly say that, either. “Maybe you got undressed by yourself? You were fairly drunk, but I would think you still had enough sense not to get in bed while wearing your dress.”

Backing off from Mayumi’s lips, which were centimeters away from contact, Tatsuya delivered his answer with an air of nonchalance.

“Would someone drunk still be able to think about that?”

“I wouldn’t know. If you don’t even know yourself, then there isn’t any way I would.”

“…You know, Tatsuya,” Mayumi hummed, directing her eyes, red with embarrassment, at him for the first time since he’d returned, “I’m not exactly a heavyweight, but I am the type who remembers what happened just fine.”

Tatsuya wanted to flee the scene. Unfortunately, though, he knew that escape was impermissible in this situation. It’d just make him look guilty.

“…I don’t think you had to be that rough with me.”

He had indeed thrown her into her bed roughly.

But is that the part that needs to be criticized? he wondered, suspicious. But if he were to ask if that was more important than her being exposed in her underwear, he would have been stepping on the tail of a king cobra.

Mayumi was watching him, still looking embarrassed.

With the incredibly awkward air having settled in like it owned the place, the last thing waiting for Tatsuya was the mentally laborious mission of seeing her back to the station closest to where she lived.

The instant Tatsuya put a hand on the gate door to his own house, the front door opened.

“Welcome home, Brother.”

Greeting him as he arrived back home was, as always, Miyuki.

“Thanks. Sorry about all that.”

The traces of irrepressible worry and an air of relief were visible on her face. She knew logically there were none who could harm him, but her feelings of anxiety were separate from that.

Miyuki shook her head at his apology. “No, don’t be. Just seeing you safe and healthy again is enough for me.”

Right after entering the house, he was forced to relax in the living room. Minami had snatched away his travel bag with his clothes in it, and Miyuki had escorted him to the sofa.

It was pointless to resist at times like these. He wasn’t being served, but rather, being forced to accept service. He obediently let the two of them do as they wished.

Miyuki sat next to him, watching happily as he drank from his coffee cup. But when he put the cup on the table, she suddenly became restless. She would look at Tatsuya, then away, and then back again.

“It’s fine. The job I was asked to do is going smoothly. In fact, at this stage, you could say I’ve fulfilled enough of my responsibilities to our aunt.”

Thinking Miyuki probably wanted to know of today’s results, Tatsuya preempted her and said things were going well.

“No—I wasn’t doubting you, Brother…”

But it seemed what Miyuki wanted to ask was something else.

“Go ahead. What did you want to ask?”

When Tatsuya tried to draw her out, Miyuki, wavering even more, eventually shook off her hesitation and asked, “Brother, what was the cause behind Minoru’s constitution?”

Taking an unforeseen surprise attack, Tatsuya was unable to immediately answer.

“It’s what I mentioned yesterday—his magic power is too strong, and his body can’t withstand it.”

Miyuki’s face clouded, and she knitted her brow in worry. “That’s his current state, though, isn’t it? Didn’t you see the cause of that, Brother?”

“…Why would you think I did?”

“You seemed to be acting extremely unusual at the time. What in the world could have been worrying you so?”

Without meaning to, Tatsuya found himself speechless. And that was the same as confessing there was something else.

“Brother, please. Let me hear what it is that worries you. Allow me to share in your concerns.”

Miyuki was looking up at him, eyes absolutely earnest. He could tell she wanted nothing more than to lighten the burden on his heart.

“You’re better off not knowing.”

And that made Tatsuya even less willing to talk about the secret he’d learned with her. Incidentally, though, Tatsuya didn’t feel much of a taboo against any invasions of Minoru’s privacy or that of the Kudou family’s.

“Please, Brother. You don’t need to suffer alone!”

But with her holding back tears and pleading with him, he eventually couldn’t hide it anymore.

“All right. It’s fairly shocking, so I want you to prepare yourself to hear it.”

Miyuki gasped. Seeing his younger sister’s posture straighten, Tatsuya abruptly got right to the point.

“Minoru and Fujibayashi are half siblings, with the same father.”

As she comprehended the meaning, she covered her mouth with her hands.

“How can that be?! I mean, Minoru’s father… His younger sister is Fujibayashi’s mother…”

“Minoru is engineered. Probably born from artificial insemination. It was not an act of incest, strictly speaking, but he is still a child born from a brother and sister.”

Miyuki’s face tightened in shock. She needed a fair bit of time before she could produce words again.

“Then… Minoru’s constitution is a harmful effect of inbreeding…?”

Tatsuya shook his head. But that wasn’t an expression of certain denial.

“We can’t say for sure. The issue is the imbalance in his psionic body, and physically, he’s healthy. It may have been some bug that cropped up during the engineering process.”

He paused there and sighed.

“But we can’t reject the possibility that his condition is caused by genes that are too alike. Even the magician-development institutes avoided using genes from parents and children and from siblings. We still understand very little about the ways genetics affect the psionic body and the mind.”

The blood drained from Miyuki’s face.

She was as shocked as if this all had been about her.