Amid a constant stream of bad press for magicians, Valentine’s Day had been the rare day during which the students of magic high school and Magic University could laugh and cry over harmless trivialities.

But their enjoyment lasted only a single day.

Friday, February 15, 2097: What anyone involved with magic—high school student, college student, and adult alike—dreaded most finally came to pass.

Though, perhaps began was a better word.

The location was the main gate of Magic University. The time, 11:00 AM. A group of protesters organized by an anti-magician group clashed with police as they tried to force their way onto the campus.

Given the large amount of classified defense information that was stored and used at the university, entry of anyone who wasn’t affiliated with the institution was strictly regulated. The police blocked the protesters not because they sided with the magicians but because it was simply government policy.

But those who’d come to demonstrate against magicians didn’t see it that way. Or perhaps they did understand, but chose to willfully misinterpret the situation. Some of the protesters resorted to force—nay, violence.

At first it was merely a shoving match between the two sides. Pushed back by the police, the protesters would deliberately fall, pretending to be the victims of unreasonable force. From then on, the outcome was a foregone conclusion.

“Well damn, they’ve really gone and done it now,” groaned Leo, exasperated, as he watched the news play on the large display in the dining hall.

“Man, this is terrible.” Whether it was deliberate or not, the radical protesters that had started swinging their signs around as weapons had encouraged others to start throwing rocks at the police line. Mikihiko’s brow furrowed as he watched the developments on the screen.

There aren’t any loose rocks around the entrance to the university, so the protesters must have thrown gravel that was holding down garden fabric under the city trees that grow along the streets they took to get there…

As the police in the recorded footage started to tackle and subdue the more violent protesters, the broadcast switched to a live feed.

“…Twenty-four arrested, huh? Is that a lot? Or hardly any?” asked Masaki, who by now had thoroughly integrated into Tatsuya’s lunch group, since he didn’t really know what the ballpark population of the metro area was.

“This is much calmer than the anti-war protests, but as far as recent history goes, it’s a lot,” Tatsuya answered succinctly.

“But—it looked like there were easily double that many people throwing rocks,” Honoka cut in. These past several days she had become much more proactive.

“There weren’t enough police to arrest that many people.”

“And even if they don’t arrest them in the act, they’ve got traffic camera footage. They don’t have to rush; they can arrest as many as they have to,” Erika added, who had a detective in her family as well as several police officers as fellow disciples.

“Hmm? Erika, isn’t that your brother?” wondered Leo, who was still absorbed in watching the news, his gaze not leaving the screen.

But the moment everybody’s gaze turned to the display, the news cut back to the studio.

“I mean, he is a detective…and he does deal with magician-related cases, so I’m sure he’d get borrowed for anti-riot duty,” nonchalantly replied Erika, who’d noticed him in the footage long before.

Mikihiko changed the subject, and not necessarily out of caution toward the siblings’ bad relationship. “How many protesters do you think there were, in total?”

“Neither the police nor the media have reported any numbers, so…”

As Mizuki said, the authorities had long since stopped reporting the number of participants at protests. If the major media outlets had wanted to analyze their aerial photography to get rough estimates of protest sizes, they certainly could have done so, but out of consideration for the police, they didn’t publish those figures. And of course, nobody trusted the reports of the protest organizers themselves.

“There were about two hundred in the shot the TV showed,” Tatsuya offered.

Masaki took that figure and estimated the scale of the protest. “So three or four hundred total…maybe even over five,” he said with a sigh. “People are free to think what they want, but that said, it’s pretty discouraging when you’re on the side being vilified.”

“It’s true,” murmured Miyuki in response to Masaki’s grumble.

Suddenly, Erika let out an enraged “Huh?!”

There on the screen, a lawyer was contending that the police had carried out too many arrests.

“‘An infringement on their right to freedom of speech?!’ ‘Freedom of assembly must be respected as freedom of association?!’ My ass! We’re talking about attempted forcible trespassing and resisting police orders here!”

“I agree with what Erika’s saying, but…I bet there are a lot of people who are gonna use the same reasoning as that lawyer.”

Nobody argued with Mikihiko’s gloomy prediction.

“Inagaki, are you okay?” Toshikazu asked clinically.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Inagaki answered brusquely.

There had, in fact, been a scene that was deliberately omitted from the news broadcasts.

The recorded footage had showed the police restraining the protesters who’d begun using their signs as weapons. But at the height of the chaos, there had been one violent protester who’d used a blunt weapon to try to beat his way past the police perimeter that had been set up to keep onlookers out of the road.

That violent protester had been apprehended by a plainclothes detective—Inagaki—who had been keeping a low profile in the crowd of onlookers.

Owing to the magic Inagaki had used to subdue him, the protester was not yet in any condition to be questioned. As a result, his connection to the protest group was still unknown. It seemed very likely that he was one of them, but they couldn’t be sure.

The footage hadn’t been aired out of concern for the protesters—they didn’t want the public to immediately assume the man was connected to the nonviolent demonstration. At the same time, the media didn’t want that notion circulating even if it was true.

The officer who’d been about to be struck had avoided injury thanks to Inagaki’s quick action. But in protecting him, Inagaki had gotten a terrible bruise that made it clear he was very lucky not to have a broken arm—although bruises like that were an everyday occurrence at the Chiba dojo.

And Inagaki was a master, a man who had been given the trust of a future family head. He might have taken a hit in the process of protecting a police officer and the civilians around him from a blunt weapon, but he’d done so without sustaining any serious injury. It was clear that Toshikazu understood this as he looked at the bruise.

Inagaki put his hand to his forehead and frowned, and Toshikazu regarded him dubiously. “Hmm? Inagaki, was your head hit, too?”

The thug had only struck him on his arms. It was hard to imagine a man of Inagaki’s caliber not realizing he’d sustained an injury somewhere else.

“No, I just get the worst headaches when I listen to you talk, Inspector.”

“Okay, buddy… Inagaki, I think you need to go back to the academy and learn how to respect the rank,” Toshikazu teased. Then he added, “If you’re not feeling well, you can go home,” before giving him some space.

He’d seen Inagaki putting his hand to his head like that quite a bit recently. Toshikazu was teasing him about it just now, but the truth was he was quite worried about the man.

The evening news featured a rather heated debate on the events of the day. This wasn’t because there was any programming that specifically included a debate between pro- and anti-magician figures. Rather, considerably differing views were being pushed on each channel.

On one channel whose history went all the way to the analog era, representative Kanda—a member of the opposition party and famously anti-magician—was strongly condemning the approach the police had taken.

“…Even if some of the protesters went a bit too far, the police clearly overreacted in arresting whoever they could lay their hands on. The police went out fully geared up in shields, helmets, and body armor. And in fact, not a single police officer was injured while confronting the protesters.

“Now in fairness, one plainclothes officer did sustain light injuries. He didn’t even break any bones, but in retaliation for the mild bruise he accidentally received, he attacked a civilian with magic. Given the natural power to inflict harm that these magicians possess, that was clearly excessive.

“When it comes to the police’s exercise of magic, I believe we must demand even more caution than we require for the use of firearms. I plan to introduce legislation calling for stronger limitations on the use of—and consequences for the misuse of—magic in every aspect of law enforcement. The use of magic must require prior approval, and it must come from a higher authority than the magician themselves.”

Meanwhile, on CulNet—Culture Communication Network—a cable TV network where cable news and newswire reports were more prominent, representative Kouzuke was calmly answering a question from a newscaster. Kouzuke was a member of the ruling party, which largely defended magicians’ rights.

“Magic University isn’t open to the public in the first place, and the entry of nonaffiliated individuals is strictly limited. This is because of the many crucial research projects our nation has entrusted to the university, many of which are important elements of national defense. The protesters weren’t singled out for harsh treatment simply because of their anti-magician positions.

“The protesters weren’t just swinging around their metal signs; they’d also started throwing rocks. If the situation had been allowed to spin out of control, there is every chance it would’ve put not only university students in danger but innocent passersby as well. For the police not to intervene then would have been a complete dereliction of their duty to the public.

“As far as the use of magic goes, there are already strict rules in place, and the detective who arrested the violent criminal during this incident followed these rules to the letter. Further tying the hands of our men and women in the field with needless regulation would only hinder their ability to ensure the safety of the public and, by extension, could be considered actively harmful to the public.

“Magic-based restraint has been scientifically proven to be safer than incapacitating gas, stun guns, or flash-bang rounds. It would be a great loss to our society to make the art of magic into our enemy.”

Kouichi, watching the broadcast with Mayumi, wore an expression like a teacher who’d just finished grading a test from a completely average, unremarkable pupil.

“Representative Kanda’s tone was surprisingly calm. I was sure he’d make more extreme demands.”

“Don’t you think it’s going to upstage Mr. Kouzuke’s argument?” Mayumi grumbled. Her presence here had been compelled, and she wasn’t bothering to hide her displeasure.

Behind the slight tint of his glasses, Kouichi’s eyes swiveled to regard his eldest daughter with a look of interest. “Representative Kanda is a clown, but the world is full of rubes perfectly willing to take a clown’s hyperbole literally. It’s tempting to dismiss rhetoric that uses appeals to emotion as nothing more than the childish ranting of a self-proclaimed expert, but the masses can be easily manipulated if you tempt them with empty empathy and comfortable ignorance. This kind of malicious reasoning is easier to deal with from the inside.”

“Don’t you think Mr. Kouzuke is a little lackluster when it comes to playing to the crowd like that, though?”

“I want him to douse the flames, not fan them. De-escalating statements will work on both sides.”

Mayumi’s scowl made her loathing for her father’s casual misanthropy crystal clear. “Well then, Father. What comes next?”

“For the moment, we watch and wait. I’m surprised to see CulNet coming so clearly down on our side… I may give that actress a call soon.”

“Actress? Don’t tell me you’re talking about Maki Sawamura?”

Mayumi had never heard anything about her father backing someone in the entertainment industry. The only actress she could think of with any kind of individual connection to him was Maki Sawamura, who’d visited their home the previous April.

“That’s right. I’m surprised you guessed correctly.”

“I didn’t—she’s just the only one I could think of. So…why her?”

“She’s the daughter of the CEO of Culture Communication Network.”

“You don’t say,” Mayumi replied with a disinterested hum.

Takuma was watching the same broadcast, and the instant Representative Kouzuke’s segment on the news was over, he called Maki.

“Why, hello, Takuma. What’s up?” Maki affected surprise at receiving the call.

A year earlier, Takuma would’ve been annoyed at her playing dumb, but now he didn’t care whether she was misdirecting him or being sincere.

“Sorry to call at this hour. I just wanted to thank you, Maki.”

“Thank me?” Behind her curious voice, Takuma could hear a faint commotion of some kind.

“Are you at work? If you are—”

“We’re taking a break from shooting—it’s fine. So what’s this about?”

Maki laughed, but Takuma kept things short, not wanting to trouble her any more if he could help it. “I saw Representative Kouzuke on your family’s cable channel. The news anchor was pretty favorable toward magicians, too. You arranged that, didn’t you? Seriously, thank you.”

“Oh, is that all?” Maki giggled, sounding almost disappointed. “Well, I did tell my dad that it wasn’t a good idea to be too sympathetic to the anti-magic people, but not just because you asked me to help. We’re an upstart network, so there’s no profit for us in just following the lead of the old guard. My dad just made a business calculation. Now, Mr. Kouzuke owes us a favor, too, so you really don’t have to go out of your way to thank me for this.”

“Still, it really helped. Thank you.”

“It did? In that case, I look forward to being repaid for the favor.”

“Yeah, anything you need, just say it.”

Takuma apologized again for interrupting her during work and then ended the call.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, many people were displeased that the mass media was not united in embracing anti-magician sentiment.

Gu Jie, still on the run, was not only displeased but impatient.

The goal of his terrorist attack had been to incite outrage toward magicians by laying the deaths of ordinary civilians at the feet of the Ten Master Clans. He’d expected that the magicians of Japan would use the Ten Master Clans as a scapegoat in order to placate the rising swell of anger and dismay. The negative feedback loop was supposed to culminate in the downfall of the Clans and, in particular, his true goal: the social destruction of the Yotsuba family.

Yes, both internal divisions among magicians and discontent with the Ten Master Clans momentum were definitely increasing. But at this rate, Gu Jie suspected it would peter out before achieving anything decisive.

“There is no meaning in that. This cannot end until those who stole my vengeance from me taste the same bitter regret I did so long ago.”

Forty-three years earlier, Gu Jie had failed and fled his country. He’d achieved renown as a practitioner of ancient magic, only to lose everything and become dead to the world.

And with a mind warped by the indignity, Gu Jie had sworn revenge.

He would inflict his own miserable circumstances on the modern magicians of the Kunlun Institute who’d driven him out, and he would laugh at their suffering and resentment.

He could think of no other way to soothe the bitterness in his heart.

But his revenge became impossible. The Yotsuba clan had wiped out the very object of his vengeance.

With nowhere else to go, his embittered mind turned toward the ones who’d robbed him of his satisfaction.

And just as his former self had once done, he set himself to the task of masterminding the destruction of the Yotsuba clan.

“—I won’t kill them. I won’t give them sweet release of death. They can live on in misery, writhing in mud.”

The suicide terrorist bombing had been his last measure to that end. With the repudiation of their utility and contribution to society, he was sure it was only a matter of time before the magicians of Japan would find themselves stripped of their position, prestige, pride, and place in society by their fellow Japanese citizens.

If he could just see that with his own eyes, the only thing left to do would be to find a place suitable for a quiet death. But if his goal wouldn’t be fulfilled, he would have to come up with another ploy. He had no intention of rotting away before accomplishing his revenge.

In any case, his immediate goal was getting out of the country. If he was going to plan another attack, he couldn’t afford to take his time. Gu Jie could feel the noose tightening.

The network of connections that Gongjin Zhou had built mostly lay in ruins, but there were still a few here and there left alive in Japan, and they were what allowed Gu Jie to remain a free man.

Losing access to Hlidskjalf had been a blow, but he’d always known that it was dangerous to rely too much on that tool. Friends sworn in blood were more reliable than such an unknowable implement, Gu Jie realized anew.

In order to get out of the country quickly without taking the time to cover his tracks, he needed powerful pawns. He needed to find components with greater potential than even the enhanced magicians he’d stolen from the military.

Having concluded as much, Gu Jie remembered that one of his friends had told him he’d carved a mark into a promising student from a powerful magic family.

This student’s talent didn’t seem too impressive, but anyone from that family ought to make an excellent puppet.

With the marked student as bait, he would hook and land the master. Gu Jie set about planning his next move.

Saturday, February 16. There was another anti-magician protest but not at Magic University. They marched from the central government district to the National Diet Building, and unlike the previous day, there was no violence.

However, that didn’t mean there were no problems. There was an incident four hundred kilometers west of Tokyo, in Nishinomiya’s Second High School. A junior student on her way home from school was attacked by anti-magician activists.

“Tatsuya?”

“Um, Tatsuya?”

Tatsuya had heard about the incident on his own way home and then promptly turned around and headed back to school, where Miyuki and Honoka met him, uncertainty in their voices.

“I heard about the Second High incident and came back,” Tatsuya answered before they had to ask. “Do we have any details?”

“A female student on her way home was attacked by several violent protesters, but another student quickly came to her aid, so she wasn’t hurt. However, in the process of fighting them off, apparently they made a mistake in limiting their magic, so the attackers sustained significant injuries. Minami’s setting up a conference call with Second High right now.”

Just as Miyuki finished her explanation to Tatsuya, Minami announced, “We’re connected.”

Miyuki nodded to Minami and leaned toward the mic. “This is Miyuki Shiba, president of the First High student council. Can you hear me, Second High?”

“This is Minoru Kudou, vice president of the Second High student council. You’re coming through loud and clear.”

The voice coming through the speaker was Minoru Kudou, who’d cooperated with them the previous fall in Nara and Kyoto.

“Oh, Minoru, you’re the vice president at Second High?”

“Yes, although I’m more like the vice vice president. By the way, Miyuki, would you mind if we switched to a video call?”

“No, not a bit.”

They hadn’t started with a video call out of good manners. Both sides were familiar with the embarrassment of seeing something they didn’t particularly want seen in the corner of a display when a camera was connected.

Once a voice connection was made, it was quick to switch. In less than a second, Minoru’s face appeared on the large screen in the student council room.

Several quiet gulps were audible in the room.

The student council members who hadn’t gone to Kyoto still knew Minoru’s face from the thesis competition. But seeing a clearly masculine face that was nonetheless just as beautiful as Miyuki’s was still more than enough to overwhelm all the girls present except Miyuki.

Minoru’s eyes widened slightly at seeing Tatsuya among the members of First High’s student council. Minoru had heard from conversation around his house that Tatsuya had been put on the search for the terrorist. But he knew better than to bring that up here, so he asked no questions.

“Getting right to the point, Vice President Kudou,” began Miyuki in a briskly professional tone. “We’d like to hear about the attack on a student from your school in as much detail as possible.”

“Certainly, President Shiba,” Minoru replied, his voice becoming similarly formal. “About an hour ago, a freshman from Second High was on her way to the station from school, when she was suddenly accosted by six men who appeared to be in their late teens or early twenties.”

Hearing this, the entire First High student council, the president of the disciplinary committee, and a female member of the disciplinary committee all frowned.

“Facing the student, the men began shouting at her about the principles of humanism. ‘Miracles are the purview of God alone, and twisting the order of God’s creation is an act of the devil. Humans should live by only that power granted them’—all that stuff.”

Hearing the humanist principles stated again, it was painfully clear how they had deliberately twisted existing religious thought into a cultish ideology.

“The student resolutely kept requesting, ‘Please get out of my way,’ but the men surrounding her refused to open up a path. When she tried to push the panic button on her portable terminal, one of the men grabbed her and started struggling with her for the terminal.”

The panic button functionality included in portable terminals didn’t just sound a loud alarm noise. It also transmitted location data to nearby emergency services. It was easy to imagine why men who’d ignored her clearly stated request would try to stop her from hitting it.

“Hearing the commotion, other students came running. There were three freshmen and one junior. The junior broke the ring of humanists surrounding the accosted student, and the freshmen pushed through, and it immediately devolved into a brawl. In addition to being physically larger than the students, they seemed to have some martial arts training, and when the junior was struck and knocked unconscious, a freshman girl used magic to disable the attackers.”

“What’s the situation with injuries?”

“The junior sustained fairly serious injuries—a broken nose, a burst eardrum, a cracked rib, and some internal bleeding. They also reportedly have some organ damage. One freshman boy has a broken collarbone, and another got a concussion. He sustained a vicious blow to the back of his head, so he’s undergoing thorough testing. The other boy and the girl didn’t have any serious injuries.”

“And the men?”

“The magic used was Spark and Press. Spark left one man with an irregular pulse and another with a cut inside his mouth from the impact to his face he took when he fell. Apparently, he also cracked a tooth. The others have scrapes and bruises from being forced down by Press.”

“We’ve been hearing that the attackers sustained worse injuries, but it sounds like the junior got the worst of it,” pointed out Miyuki.

Minoru smiled bitterly—although his appearance was so composed, it didn’t show. “Apparently, the irregular pulse was particularly severe immediately after the magic… Now we know that he has high blood pressure and is prone to arrhythmia, but until he was examined, it wasn’t clear how bad the electrical injury actually was, so the story became that he was ‘badly wounded.’”

The First High students’ reactions were split between those who looked relieved and those couldn’t help their sarcastic smirks at hearing this. Miyuki was among the relieved, while Tatsuya was among the latter.

“So it sounds like the freshman student won’t be accused of using excessive force in self-defense, then.”

“Our student council president and the other vice president are with the police right now, along with a teacher. We won’t know anything specific about that until they get back, but it probably won’t be a problem.”

“I see. In that case, would you tell me how things went once your president gets back? A text is fine.”

“Understood. I’ll message you when I know.”

“I appreciate it, Vice President Kudou.”

“Certainly. President Shiba—ah, Miyuki—thank you for your time.”

“Not at all, Minoru. Take care.” Miyuki flipped the switch on the teleconference system and turned to Tatsuya. “Minoru seems quite certain, as you heard, but it sounds like the question of whether or not the use of magic will be deemed excessive force is very much up in the air.”

“Even if it doesn’t end up being ruled a crime this time around, the problem of proportionality remains,” Tatsuya explained. “I think it’s quite unlikely that clear criteria for what use of magic is allowed for what level of danger will be established. In the worst-case scenario, a judge might rule that magic-based resistance is never allowed until physical harm has been inflicted.”

“But, Tatsuya, isn’t that unreasonable? If that logic goes unchallenged, doesn’t that lead to the conclusion that magicians don’t have any right to self-defense at all?” Izumi objected.

“They may just tell us to defend ourselves with anything besides magic,” Shizuku pointed out matter-of-factly.

Nobody, Izumi included, had anything to refute Shizuku’s hypothesis.

“Because actual harm was inflicted, it was ruled as legitimate self-defense, huh?” Tatsuya asked.

He was sitting at the dinner table, after returning home from the now-routine daily meeting, when he heard his sister’s answer.

“Yes… It wasn’t spelled out in such clear terms, but I do have the feeling that your pessimistic prediction is coming true, Tatsuya.”

Tatsuya and Miyuki were in agreement. So long as clear criteria weren’t established somewhere, the risk remained that a judge somewhere might issue a ruling that banned any use of magic in self-defense on purely ideological grounds.

“We may as well try to send a request to clarify the legal right for magic-based self-defense through the Magic Association. Even if it gets approved, it’ll take a considerable amount of time.”

The case laws governing permissible use of magic were—outside of government employees going about their duties or private citizens acting in the capacity of a public servant—rather vague. The wording was deliberately broad, with phrases like when there is an urgent need and in the service of the public good.

This had its origin in the historical precedent of how magicians had come to be used as tools of state authority. In order to preserve public stability and prevent disaster, the administration at the time had been motivated to ensure that they could use magic as freely as possible, which was what had led to the current laws on the books.

But it was now very clear that these very laws were insufficient to protect individual magicians. The harmful consequences of treating magicians as nothing more than implements of national policy had finally surfaced.

“First High may very well be targeted next,” Tatsuya stated. “Minami?”

“Yes, sir.” She entered from the kitchen at the call.

“Minami, whenever I’m not able to be close to Miyuki, I want you to accompany her as much as is possible. Take even greater care now not to leave her side.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And so long as magic isn’t being used to attack you, don’t use any magic where there’s the possibility of injuring your opponent. Avoid Reflector, too.”

“But, sir—even Interruption will turn the energy of an attack back on its source. Moderating it with Deceleration will considerably shorten the amount of time I can maintain a shield.”

Minami hesitated to object further, and Miyuki came to her rescue. “Tatsuya. Perhaps I should be the one in charge of Deceleration?”

But Tatsuya’s response was not especially favorable. “No…your magic power would eat away at Minami’s shield. With dividing your attention between that and my seal, it would be hard to maintain precise control, wouldn’t it?”

“I…won’t dispute that,” Miyuki said carefully.

“Anyway, now that you’ve been publicly announced as the next head of the Yotsuba family, it wouldn’t be a good idea for you to use magic against a civilian. Leave it to Minami unless things get truly dire.”

Seeing his sister nod in assent, Tatsuya returned his gaze to Minami.

“If Miyuki is ever attacked, I’ll come running, no matter where I am. You just have to hold out until I arrive.”

“Understood. You can count on me, sir.”

The truth was, Tatsuya’s request was putting a considerable burden on Minami. But Miyuki’s protection was more important to her than her work as a maid.

Minami gave Tatsuya a resolute nod.

—Why did her precious Sunday have to start out by meeting such a rotten guy?

Such were Erika’s thoughts after she returned home from a fairly long training run. She’d run into her older brother Toshikazu at the front gate, who appeared to be just on his way out.

Toshikazu did not look as though he was going out for leisure. With his suit and overcoat, he was dressed for work. Erika didn’t find this particularly odd, though. It was no overstatement to say that detectives didn’t get to have weekends. At the very least, the magician detectives affiliated with the Chiba family all seemed to live life that way.

Erika had attempted to run right past Toshikazu without greeting him or making eye contact.

But as she’d expected, he stopped her short.

“Erika.”

Erika hated her half brother by a different mother more than anyone in the world except her father. And her brother was, if anything, harder for her to deal with.

Memories of him beating her to the ground during their training as children still lingered in the corners of her mind.

The sneering things he used to say when teasing her were so grating that even at the time she would wonder why he had to go so far. The fact that his words always seemed to strike at things she’d hidden in her heart made them all the more infuriating.

She had no idea how many times she’d wished he would just ignore her. Since becoming a high school student, she’d given up on that, too, as futile.

“What?” Erika glared at him with as much ill temper as she could muster.

“There’s something I want to ask you.” His usual malice was absent.

“Well, what is it?” Erika snapped, wondering if something was wrong with him.

Toshikazu paid Erika’s combative attitude no mind. He seemed unusually preoccupied. “Have you seen Inagaki?”

“Inagaki?” The question was so unexpected Erika found herself seriously thinking about it. “…Not recently, no. When was the last time you saw him?”

“Yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Erika frowned, not sure what her brother was getting at. Was it really worth worrying about an adult who hadn’t been seen for just a day?

Toshikazu looked away from Erika, perhaps uncomfortable with the curious gaze she was giving him. “That bastard took yesterday off work without even checking in,” he explained, still looking away, as though he needed to offer some excuse for his asking.

“Inagaki lives alone, right? Could he have gotten sick or something and wound up in a condition where he couldn’t call in?”

“He’s not at home. Where’d he wander off to anyway…?”

“…So you went all the way to his place, huh?”

Toshikazu turned his back at Erika’s jab. “L-look, if you see him, tell him to call me immediately, okay? And tell the rest to do the same.” By “the rest,” he was referring to the students of the Chiba dojo.

Toshikazu turned his back to Erika and strode off briskly. “Sure, whatever,” she muttered and returned to her own quarters in the house.

A little while after showering and eating a solitary breakfast, she went into the dojo.

Neither her father nor her elder sister were there. Those were the times Erika aimed for to do her training in the dojo. Conveniently, her sister also avoided using the dojo when Erika was there. The two half sisters did not get along and had very skillfully divided the Chiba home between them.

Despite it being Sunday morning, the dojo was crowded with students. Men in their twenties predominated. There were also some students of Inagaki’s age.

Remembering Toshikazu’s request, something like a whim compelled Erika to ask them about it.

“Naitou, Kadota, do you have a second?” Erika called out to a man swinging a wooden practice sword and another who was standing next to him, giving him some pointers.

The two men stopped their work and turned to her.

“Oh, Miss Erika, good morning.”

“Miss Erika, you trained today?”

“I just got here. So you two started at the school the same time as Inagaki, right?”

“Yes.”

“Although Inagaki’s older than we are.”

“Not by much, though,” Erika noted, spearing Kadota with a cold gaze when he tried to emphasize the two-year difference. She then decided she’d make no progress if she kept getting hung up on little details like that. “Anyway, apparently Inagaki has been missing since yesterday, and I was wondering if you two had heard anything.”

“He’s missing?” Naitou frowned; he was Inagaki’s age and probably the closest to him of anyone in the dojo. “That’s odd. He doesn’t seem like the type to take off without leaving a message, no matter what kind of emergency came up.”

“Yeah, he’s very methodical, unlike you, Naitou.”

A fairly loud bonk rang out as a hand made contact with Kadota’s head.

“…C’mon, I was just kidding around a little!”

“Be grateful I didn’t use a wooden sword.”

The whack that Naitou had given Kadota’s head with his fist had looked forceful enough, but Kadota didn’t seem particularly fazed.

“Okay, okay, save the horseplay for later,” Erika said, an unamused look in her eyes. “So I take it you two don’t have any idea where he might be?”

“We do not… Attention!” Naitou turned his head and shouted across the dojo. “Anyone who saw Inagaki yesterday or today, hands up!”

No hands rose.

“Does anyone know Inagaki’s whereabouts?”

This time, two of the younger students raised their hands. “This was the evening of the day before yesterday, but we saw him near his home,” said one. The other nodded.

“You two live in Kamakura, right?”

“Yes.”

“It seemed like he was looking for something. We didn’t say hello since we thought he might have been on duty.”

“Did you notice anything else?”

“We only caught a glimpse of him… I’m sorry.”

Naitou turned to Erika.

Erika nodded to him.

“Understood. Back to training!” Naitou barked.

With a chorus of “Yes, sir!” the students all returned to their individual training, and Naitou looked away from them and squared himself to Erika. “Well, you heard them. I’m sorry we couldn’t be of more help.”

“This comes from my brother Kazu, so you don’t have to apologize to me. Make sure to tell Kazu all this, okay?” Erika said, then turned and left Naitou and Kadota.

Naitou knew very well that Erika didn’t get along well with Toshikazu, so he smiled and promised to do as she asked.

After getting the message from Naitou, Toshikazu climbed into his unmarked patrol car without even making an appearance at the temporary investigation headquarters.

Hearing the word Kamakura had given him a flash of inspiration—and a clammy feeling of regret, too.

The ancient magician they’d visited to hear an explanation of corpse-manipulation magic lived in Kamakura.

Immediately beforehand, Toshikazu had gotten a warning from Fujibayashi that the magician in question was blacklisted by the Magic Association and that he was rumored to have connections with magicians from Dahan.

There had been other signs, too. After they’d talked with that magician, Inagaki had constantly been rubbing his forehead, as though he’d been suffering from a headache that wouldn’t go away.

The magician—Kazukiyo Oumi, “the Dollmaker”—must have used some technique on him. Probably of the mind-controlling type.

Why hadn’t he noticed that Inagaki had been exhibiting the exact symptoms Fujibayashi had described to him on the phone?

A shout almost escaped Toshikazu when he realized his lapse but he held back, stifling the urge and contenting himself with a mere grinding of teeth.

Parking the unmarked patrol car a block short of his destination, Toshikazu stealthily approached the Dollmaker’s residence.

While he wasn’t at the level of First High’s counselor, Haruka Ono (alias Mizz Phantom), Toshikazu was a first-rate user of concealment magic. Making sure passersby didn’t notice him carrying his sword cane was child’s play. It wouldn’t fool any technological observation, but he was confident in his ability not to be spotted by any human eyes.

As he continued to conceal himself, Toshikazu extended his extrasensory perception into the residence—not like a cloth blanketing his field of vision but rather countless threads extending outward from within it.

Contrary to his expectations, he found no obstacles barring his way. He detected no walls blocking his threads, nor traps turning them back against him. But he remained vigilant as he explored deeper and deeper into the residence.

He found Inagaki with unexpected ease.

It was so easy, in fact, that it put Toshikazu even more on his guard.

The sense of Inagaki that was coming down through the threads of Toshikazu’s perception was very weak. He seemed on the verge of death. Even if he’d gone an entire day and night without eating or drinking, it didn’t explain this level of debilitation. He required immediate medical attention.

There was no time for hesitation. Toshikazu quickly abandoned standard procedure.

If I’m wrong, I’ll submit my letter of resignation.

He summoned his courage and decided to enter the residence.

He took the friendly approach to start, pressing the intercom button. He didn’t think anyone would just let him inside, but it would at least give him an excuse for breaking the lock. Right as he was about to follow through with his plan of action—

“Ah, the officer from the other day. I’ve unlocked the door. Do come in.”

The sudden response caught him off guard. His sense that he was in danger only increased, but in the end, he knew that this was no time for caution. He turned the doorknob.

It wasn’t locked.

As Toshikazu stepped into the entryway, the lights automatically came on. Gimmicks like this and houses with few windows weren’t particularly uncommon these days. And it was his second time visiting the place. Leaving his shoes on (it was the procedure for this house), he continued down the hallway.

A white-haired old man in a long, high-collared robe awaited him at the end of the hall. He appeared to be in his fifties or early sixties. His hair was completely white, but aside from slight wrinkles, his dark skin was free from any liver spots, sagging, or other signs of aging. Judging by his skin color and features, Toshikazu guessed he might be from the Indonesian Peninsula. In any case, this was not Kazukiyo Oumi.

“Dr. Oumi is out at the moment, but he left instructions that any police officers were to be allowed in,” said the old man in slightly English-accented Japanese, bowing his head.

“Excuse me, but who are you?” Toshikazu asked the old man, aware that the wind was rapidly being taken out of his sails.

“I am Nguyen, an old friend of Dr. Oumi.”

Vietnam, then, thought Toshikazu. As long as that’s not a false name, he added to himself.

“Your acquaintance is this way.”

“Do you mean Inagaki?” His adrenaline was down, but Toshikazu was still nervous as he put the question to Nguyen, careful not to let his caution show on his face.

“Yes, that’s right, Mr. Inagaki. Dr. Oumi called him that as well,” answered the old man without turning around as he continued to lead Toshikazu farther into the residence

The old man opened the door to a room.

Inagaki’s prone form suddenly came into view. He was lying feebly on a bed, his breaths coming with great difficulty.

“Inagaki!”

Toshikazu burst into the room, only to suddenly realize that in doing so, he’d turned his back on the old man. He froze.

Seemingly paying Toshikazu’s strange actions no mind, the old man walked up to the side of the bed where Inagaki lay.

Careful to keep both Inagaki and the old man in his field of view, Toshikazu approached the bed.

“What’s going on here?” Toshikazu demanded as he looked down at them, not bothering to hide the fury in his voice.

“Your friend is suffering from a hex.”

“A hecks?”

“Pardon me. I mean to say that a curse placed on him by someone is draining him of his life force.”

“A curse…?” Toshikazu’s confusion was not because this fact itself was unexpected. He’d suspected that Inagaki had been the victim of a magical attack from the Dollmaker. But this situation made it seem like the Dollmaker was actually trying to heal him.

“Dr. Oumi found your friend collapsed and brought him here to the residence where he has been receiving emergency treatment. That’s why he’s been unable to call you. The hex can also travel through the phone lines, you see.”

The old man’s story seemed to hold water, but there was absolutely no proof that it was true. All Toshikazu took away from this was that the old man was bothering to make sure it was consistent.

But he didn’t want to start getting rough with someone who hadn’t taken any hostile action at all. Toshikazu decided to return to his car and call for backup.

However, he didn’t get the chance to carry out that decision.

“Inspector…”

Inagaki’s weakened voice brought Toshikazu up short. “Inagaki, you’re awake!” Toshikazu automatically placed his left hand on the bed frame. Still, his right hand remained free, out of caution toward the old man behind him.

Inagaki’s right hand feebly grasped Toshikazu’s left.

But the next instant, Inagaki’s grip gained immense strength, immobilizing Toshikazu’s wrist.

Toshikazu’s mind reeled.

The power in man’s grip was unthinkable. To be so weakened—to have lost so much vitality that he was easily mistakable for a corpse—it should have been impossible for him to summon such strength.

Inagaki’s left hand sprang up from the mattress. In it, he held what looked like some kind of a pressurized hypodermic injector.

Reflexively, Toshikazu tried to defend himself.

But the next moment, Toshikazu was shocked from behind with what felt like a stun gun. He lacked the strength to turn around, and a shroud of blackness fell upon him.

Under the direction of the Ten Master Clans, magicians were putting all their talent toward the task of searching for the mastermind behind the Hakone attack, and law enforcement agencies were working around the clock on the terrorist investigation. Despite all this effort, by February 18, almost two weeks since the incident, they had yet to locate Gu Jie.

No new leads had been gleaned from the Generator corpses recovered at Zama. As a feeling of deadlock spread through all those involved in the investigation, Tatsuya decided to go take another look over the location where Gu Jie had previously hid.

However, as he rode alone to Kamakura, he was suddenly assailed by a sensation of danger. He wondered if this was what people meant by a “gut feeling.” He stopped the bike and focused his vision, but he saw no elements that posed any danger to Miyuki. And he hadn’t yet found a technique for seeing into the future.

Still, he respected the uneasy premonition and turned his bike toward Hachiouji.

There was still plenty of time left before she would have had to leave school for the day, but Miyuki was already at the nearby station.

“I’m very sorry for this, Miss Miyuki.”

Beside her walked Minami, who was apologizing repeatedly.

“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s fine? This is also part of my student council duties, and I have no intention of pushing it all off on you.”

“We really wouldn’t have minded going by ourselves, Miyuki.” Izumi was also superficially apologetic, but she couldn’t hide the fact that she was actually very pleased with how things had turned out.

Miyuki was accompanying Minami and Izumi to consult on gifts for the graduating students. Every year, commemorative items were ordered at a store near the station that had its own fabrication facilities. This was Miyuki’s second time meeting at the store to decide on gifts, and she would have been just fine on her own, but she had brought along the other two to prepare them for next year.

“Hello, we’re from the First High School student council.”

“Ah, yes, welcome!” It was the owner’s wife who emerged from within the shop to greet them.

Apparently, the shop, too, had learned quite a bit from their experience last year…

“That took quite a bit of time, didn’t it, Miyuki?” murmured Izumi in a small voice as soon as they left the shop. Her refined voice didn’t make it sound like she was complaining, but the sense that she was still annoyed somehow came off her in waves.

“I suppose so. But we got basically all the requirements worked out today, so let’s call that a win,” Miyuki announced with a comforting smile.

Izumi immediately perked up. “That’s true! You really were a great negotiator, Miyuki. I mean, of course you were.”

“I don’t know if I was all that good, but…”

“No, you were! It’s all thanks to you that we finished the meeting so fast.” The fickle approach to life that let Izumi say “so fast” immediately after complaining about how long something had taken was her default setting—at least, with the proviso that she was with Miyuki. “And that reserved elegance you have is just wonderful.”

Izumi was hitting all the usual things people talked about when singing Miyuki’s praises. Miyuki was used to this sort of thing, so she just smiled and let the energetic girl say what she pleased.

It would soon be time to go home from school. Despite not needing notebooks or textbooks, the girls always had to bring various grooming and cosmetic accessories with them, so it wasn’t as though they commuted to and from school empty-handed. So before they could go home for the day, they had to stop by the school first.

“Anyway, let’s hurry back to school. We’re not cutting it too close, but we don’t have that much time to spare, either.”

“All right.”

“Yes, let’s.”

Izumi and Minami respectively both agreed with Miyuki’s suggestion, and the trio made for First High.

But before the girls had been walking for even one minute, they were forced to stop.

On a side road one block off the path that led to school, they caught sight of a large group of well over a dozen men.

Not only were they tightly grouped together, but through the gaps between the men’s feet, they could see the boots that First High’s female students wore.

“Hey, you there, what are you doing?” shouted Izumi as soon as she realized the men were surrounding a girl from her school. She began to run toward them.

The men on the nearer side of the crowed looked over their shoulders, talking to one another. “Hey, she’s from the Saegusa family,” said one. “That’s the First High student council president behind her!” added another. Both Izumi and Miyuki could hear them.

“Izumi, wait!” Miyuki quickly ran after Izumi, grabbing her shoulder and stopping her.

But Miyuki’s intervention was too late

Or rather, the men were too quick.

Releasing the girl they’d been harassing, they quickly surrounded Miyuki and her two friends.

“What’re you doing?!”

One of the men pointed.

“You there, daughter of a master of dark and sinful arts!” he called, sounding ham-fistedly theatrical. “Repent!”

Following the shout, the others chorused, “Repent!”

“What’d you say?!”

“Izumi, wait—” Miyuki held the sputtering, enraged Izumi back.

“The working of miracles is the sole providence of God. For any other than God to twist his divine creation is an act of evil!”

The man intoned a familiar statement in a booming voice, but Miyuki refused to take the bait. She turned her back to him. “Would you mind letting us pass?”

The men pierced by Miyuki’s gaze flinched and hesitated, but rather than heeding her request, they just shouted again, “Repent!”

“Humans must live only by that which God has…”

Of course, Miyuki wasn’t listening to them, either. “If you do not let us pass, you will be engaging in unlawful detention. Do you understand?” Miyuki insisted, ignoring the words that the leader almost seemed to be reading off a script and instead going for the attention of the one in front of her.

“Shut your mouth!” said a third man, standing next to her target.

Miyuki paid him no heed. “Minami.”

“Yes, miss,” she replied crisply. She’d already prepared her magic activation, and now she deployed a composite magic barrier that included both Insulation and Deceleration, with a radius that just barely avoided touching the men.

They didn’t immediately understand what Minami had done.

Until Miyuki pulled out her portable terminal and pressed the panic button.

The man who’d been shouting at Miyuki reached out to grab her terminal, but his hand was blocked by Minami’s barrier.

They realized they were on the other side of a barrier that stopped them from laying a hand on the three girls.

“Oh, so you think you can just use magic, huh?” shouted their assailants.

“We are merely protecting ourselves against an illegal attempt to restrict our movement,” Miyuki stated in a clear, calm voice. “I also feel threatened as woman,” she added with scorn.

Izumi eyed the leader coldly.

Those eyes were an unbearable provocation to someone with absolute faith in his own righteousness. Even if that wasn’t what Izumi intended, it was how the leader felt.

“Let us punish these insolent women!” The leader raised his hand, then brought it forcefully down.

Four men, two on each side of him, advanced from behind, their right fists thrust forward. Each hand had a ring on the middle finger, which shone with a dull brass sheen.

“Is that antinite?!” Izumi shouted.

“This is divine retribution!”

At the leader’s order, Miyuki, Izumi, and Minami were assailed with Cast Jamming noise.

Minami, maintaining the barrier, groaned in pain.

All around them, hands pushed through the barrier.

(To be continued in Part III)