Chapter 71: Chūō Chūō

Mio

Mio blinked.

She thought Jii had actually smiled. Her mind was playing tricks on her. That was nothing new.

“How do you do it?” Mio said. To the boy with seven years left.

Kaito’s eyes stayed on the road. “Do what?”

“Pretend it’s okay.”

He was quiet for a moment. The only sound was Mori’s breathing against the window, halfway between a snore and a wheeze.

“Did you know Aoi loved fortune cookies?”

Mio shifted in her seat. Aoi had been a distant memory as of late. “No.”

“She would crack them open and rewrite the ones she didn’t like. Kept a pen in her bag for it. I still have the jar.”

He changed lanes. A delivery truck honked behind them.

“If Aoi were still alive, I still wouldn’t hesitate to kill a fucking monster.”

Kaito let it sit. Eyes on the road.

Mio pulled the cuff over the obsidian arm tighter. She’d already forgotten what the little orc looked like. But she remembered the hot breath against her skin.

“If you have to think about the thread between monster and humanity, you are dead weight.”

“Thought we were friends.”

“It’s bullshit. We both know that.” He checked the mirror. Mori hadn’t moved.

The twitch of his brow gave it away. The gravel sneaking into his voice. Liar.

“Sure.”

“The moment you hesitate, even once—everyone dies. Even Mori-san knows that.”

Mori shifted in her sleep, murmuring about adopting tiny Jiis.

Mio didn’t say anything else.

The van came to a halt at a stoplight. Red glow on the windshield. A couple crossed in front of them holding grocery bags, arguing about something Mio couldn’t hear.

“Five minutes to destination,” the GPS said.

Kaito put the van in gear. The light changed.

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the drive. Mori snored through two more intersections and a highway merge. The Chūō Expressway was backed up heading west—commuter traffic that didn’t know what was converging forty minutes ahead of them.

Kokubunji announced itself before the GPS did. Blue-and-red strobes pulsing between apartment blocks. A Bureau checkpoint flagged them through without stopping the van.

Six figures stood outside the blockade. Different ID badges. Tama Branch — western Tokyo jurisdiction.

Bureau vans formed a loose perimeter around the Kokubunji Station complex. Four stories of shopping floors, a transit hub underneath servicing the Chūō Line, and residential towers on three sides. The station walls were sweating—moisture beading on concrete that should have been dry.

Two scanner drones circled overhead, catching sunlight on each pass. The train platforms were empty. Someone had shut down service for a six-block radius, and Mio could see the evacuation buses still loading on the far side of the blockade.

Mio stepped out. Kaito followed. Mori stumbled from the back seat, sneezed into her mask, and leaned against the bumper with her eyes closed.

A slender girl no taller than Mio in a bureau suit broke from the group. Dazzling orange eyes. Tailored jacket over a blouse over what looked like a third layer underneath. Overdressed for July.

She was already running.

“MIO-CHAAAAAAAAAAN!”

The girl seized her obsidian arm with both hands, turning it over, running her thumb along the knuckles.

“It’s real. The report said obsidian composite but I thought they were being dramatic—is it warm? It’s warm. Why is it warm?”

Jii’s head poked out of Mio’s jacket pocket. Two tiny yellow eyes.

The girl screamed.

“WHAT IS THAT. IS THAT A LITTLE PERSON?”

Jii retreated into the pocket.

“She’s shy,” Mio managed.

“I’M IN LOVE.”

Behind them, Kaito was already talking. The way he did when he’d memorized the briefing packet and needed everyone else to catch up.

“Tama Branch requested Shibuya support twelve hours ago. B-grade nested in a residential zone—if it overflows, they’re looking at civilian casualties in the thousands.” He nodded toward the girl currently trying to coax Jii out of Mio’s pocket with her pinky finger. “Chigusa Hana. Grade A. nineteen. Division leader for the convergence. Squad Two lead out of Shinjuku.”

“Hi!” Chigusa said without looking up. Wrong hand salute. “I read your file!”

A boy from Squad Two stepped forward before Mio could. Tall, soft around the middle, hair sticking up on one side like he’d slept in the van. Early twenties, nervous energy, hands moving while he talked. “Enokida Rui, C-grade. [Sonar Bloom]—I map hostiles within two hundred meters, works through walls. Sorry for staring at your arm earlier. And sorry for apologizing for staring. I do that.”

“He does that,” Kaito confirmed.

The woman beside Enokida didn’t move. Short hair, square shoulders, scar across her jaw that pulled the skin when she breathed. She was holding a plastic bag with onigiri in it. Her eyes were already on the community center—scanning the walls, the moisture, the drone pattern overhead.

“Togashi Ran,” she said. “B-grade.”

She said nothing else. Togashi handed Mio an onigiri. Still warm. Her attention went right back to the building.

Mio glanced at Kaito, mouthed what.

He leaned closer, voice low.

“Integrated people kill each other more than you’d think. Agents go rogue, civilians snap—you don’t show your hand to someone you just met.” He straightened up. “Enokida’s the exception. He’d tell a stranger his preference of women if they asked.”

“I prefer round asses!” Enokida called from behind them.

Kaito turned toward the other side of the staging area.

Squad Three looked worse.

A stocky man with a crew cut was laughing about something. He’d been laughing since they pulled up. When he saw Mio looking, he laughed harder.

“Washio Gaku! B-grade! [Fault Line]—concussive blasts, short range, wide spread.” He smacked his chest. “Swarm was forty percent over projection at Tachikawa but we’re still here, baby.”

“And he’s the other exception,” Kaito said.

The thin woman behind Washio had her right hand wrapped in gauze from wrist to fingertip. Sharp face, dark hair cut above the ears. She was setting perimeter charges left-handed around the staging area without being asked and without looking up.

“Kise Haruna,” Kaito said. “C-grade. That’s all I got from the packet.”

Kise didn’t acknowledge this. She finished the charge she was working on, tested the trigger with her thumb, and moved to the next position.

“Hand’s been like that since Tachikawa,” Washio said. Quieter than before. “She won’t talk about it.”

The last one Mio couldn’t miss. Biggest person she’d ever seen. Shaved head, soft eyes that didn’t match the rest of him. Carrying Kise’s gear in one hand and a folded bureau blanket tucked under the other arm. He stood behind Washio like a wall someone had forgotten to demolish.

“Bannai Kōsuke,” Kaito said. “B-grade. Same deal.”

“Bannai’s plenty friendly,” Washio said. “You should hear him sing.”

Bannai looked at Washio, then at the ground.

Mio glanced at the blanket. “What’s that for?”

Bannai’s eyes drifted to Chigusa—still crouched by Mio’s pocket, whispering to Jii—then back.

He didn’t answer.

“So,” Washio said, clapping his hands. “Ajinomoto. How was your end?”

Chigusa finally stood up. Those eyes locked onto Mio. She’d been waiting all morning for this. Enokida leaned in. Even Togashi looked up from the onigiri bag.

Mori sneezed. Wiped her nose on her sleeve. Sneezed again.

Kaito leaned against the van with his arms crossed.

Mio bit into the onigiri.

“It went well.”

Chigusa stared at her for a long moment. Then she straightened up, and the fangirl was gone.

“Alright, everyone.” Her voice carried across the staging area. Washio stopped laughing. Kise looked up from her charges. “This is a B-grade nested incursion. Scanners have it destabilizing for two days. Anything can happen in there and probably will.”

She looked at each of them in turn. Enokida. Togashi. Washio. Kise. Bannai. Kaito. Mori, still sneezing against the bumper. And finally Mio.

“Three squads. Nine agents.” She tugged the collar of her jacket—three layers, Mio remembered. Dressed for a long fight. “Nobody dies tonight. That’s not a request.”

Bannai unfolded the blanket. Tucked it back under his arm.

Mio finished the onigiri.

She looked at the station complex. Four stories. Transit hub. Residential towers packed tight enough that she could see laundry hanging from balconies two blocks out. A kid’s bicycle chained to a railing on the third floor. Chigusa said thousands. Mio believed her.

And she could see it clearly now: all nine of them combined. They might have been able to put up a fight with Kagami. Or even Ezra.

Mio didn’t know why she came to that thought.

That reminded her. She had fifty-five unallocated points. Past Ishida’s limit. She vaguely remembered his omen, how she shouldn’t hoard stat points or it would damage the mind.

[VIT: 151 → 200]

[STR: 75 → 81]

[Unallocated Points: 0]

[HP: 4,200/4,200]

The weight finally lifted off her shoulders. She hadn’t realized how heavy it was.

Mio reached into her inventory. The Putrid Core sat where it had been since Shinjuku—dense and patient.

She’d carried it for days without meeting the threshold. She turned it over in her hand.

Now she had just enough to qualify.

She put it back.

If Kokubunji went sideways—if the nested incursion cracked open and the overflow hit those residential towers—she’d eat it.

Whatever it did to her.

Whatever it cost.

No matter what.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep