Chapter 4

Special Ops Squad of Swordsmen Division

It was a gang shootout case that involved superpowereds.

Soon after the formation of the special ops squad, it received a Beta Class emergency dispatch orders. At the site of the incident Kusuhara was shot to death, becoming the first member of Scepter 4 under the leadership of Munakata to die on duty.

The military funeral ceremony was held on the grounds of Scepter 4’s HQ, under a drizzle. “Draw your swords! Salute!”

The troops, in full-dress uniform, held their swords in front of their chests. The motion was beautifully rehearsed and mechanical, but the members could not quite hide their inner devastation, their expressions frayed around the edges.

Their work was such that it could cost them their lives… naturally, they were fully aware of this possibility when they chose to take up this duty. But it was the first time when reality in the form of a concrete fact was thrust before their eyes.

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Unlike them, Zenjou had gone through the experience of losing a few tens of his colleagues in the past, but he never got used to it, even now. If anything, now that he was older and looking at the young troops, he was assaulted by a feeling much like pain, only far stronger than the one he had experienced back when he was on active duty.

Once the formal rites were over, the lines disbanded, troops returning to their regular duties.

The tall members were leaving, soaked with the rain and walking with quick steps in every direction. In their midst, as if being buried, there stood a married couple of petite stature. They bowed their head to every member passing them by.

They were Kusuhara’s parents, and they came to Tokyo from Fujioka specifically for this ceremony. Age-wise, it was still too early to call them aging, but, having lost their only son, the spouses looked conspicuously small and old.

Zenjou stopped, rooted to the spot and staring only at them.

Across from the couple, a man in mourning clothes, who was speaking to them, spotted Zenjou and, dragging one foot slightly, approached him. “…You are Zenjou-san, aren’t you?” The man straightened himself and bowed to him. Judging by that gesture, he belonged either to the military or to the police. “My name is Tamura,” the man introduced himself. “Takeru… I mean, Kusuhara-kun would mail me once in a while. In the message he sent the other day… Kusuhara-kun wrote that he was finally on his way to becoming a full-fledged member thanks to you, Zenjou-san.”

Urged by Tamura, Zenjou stepped in front of Kusuhara’s parents. “Thank you for holding such a grand ceremony…” the parents bowed to him, almost as if in a prayer, and he could only say, “No…” before falling silent. “…Zenjou-san,” Tamura finally asked, breaking the lengthy silence. “Was Takeru commendable?” Zenjou could answer nothing. Casting down his eyes and keeping his silence was all he could manage.

“No… he wasn’t,” someone murmured in his stead from the side. “Hey, stop it, Hidaka.” “Get a clue, man, a clue!” There stood Hidaka, Fuse, Gotou and Enomoto; the four ex-members of squad 4 must have walked up to them when no one was looking. “He was a guy with a future… with a potential that he needed to realize in that future.” Neither Tamura nor Zenjou could reply anything to that. Kusuhara’s mother pressed a handkerchief to her mouth and started sobbing. “Like hell I’d wrap it up with a noncommittal yes-he-was-grea— ow!” “…Moron.” Fuse smacked Hidaka upside the head and glanced towards Gotou. Gotou gave him a small nod and together, they took Hidaka under the arms on both sides and, giving a salute to Kusuhara’s parents, dragged him away.

Only Enomoto was left next to Tamura and Kusuhara’s parents, and he hastened to apologize, “I’m sorry. It was inconsiderate of him at a time like this…” “No, you shouldn’t be sorry…. Takeru was blessed with good senpais. To be loved wherever he went… it is so like him.” “Haha, that is true… isn’t it, Zenjou-san?” Scratching his head, Enomoto looked up at Zenjou.

Zenjou only bowed to Tamura and Kusuhara’s parents and turned to take his leave without a single word. “Ahh…” Enomoto made to stop him but let his hand fall away halfway through the motion. “How about we go inside…? You shouldn’t stay here in this cold…”

Hearing Enomoto’s voice behind him, Zenjou kept going away with long strides.

Inside him, a hot storm was raging. The energy with no way out threatened to explode from inside his body.

His feet carried him towards Munakata’s office in the main building – a place he would normally avoid getting close to.

Inside the office, besides Munakata, there was another member of the troops he was not familiar with.

Pushing him aside, he stalked towards Munakata, who was putting his soaked coat on a hanger. Munakata turned to him, and Zenjou grabbed him by the lapels, slamming his back against the wall. For a second the tall Munakata’s feet were dangling in the air as he was lifted clean off the floor with Zenjou’s one good arm.

Zenjou was glaring at him, eyes tinged with an obvious killing intent, growl escaping his throat. “Oh, Zenjou-san… You are making a much better face today,” Munakata said with that thin smile of his, same as usual.

“Ahm… Captain,” the member from earlier drawled languidly from behind Zenjou. His dark eyes behind the glasses were smirking with cynicism. “If you’re in the middle of something, maybe I should come back later?” “No, no need.” As Munakata replied, the member turned to Zenjou, “Then… Zenjou-san, was it? Could you postpone that till my business here is finished? I’d like to get it over with already…”

Zenjou looked down to get a better look at him. The operative wore a blue uniform but did not look to be affiliated with the swordsmen division. Zenjou had never seen this young man on the grounds nor in the dojo before. At a glance, he had refined features, but there was a slight hoodlum edge about the way he held himself. It created a disparity, making him come across as somewhat twisted.

The member shrugged his shoulders and took a step back. The way he kept his distance was also expertly. Strength of a very different nature than that of Awashima and the other troops could be felt in him, the strength of one well used to fighting.

“This is Fushimi Saruhiko-kun, from the Intelligence Division. I am transferring him to the special operations squad starting tomorrow,” Munakata explained.

“…I see.” After a pause, Zenjou let go of the King, “I apologize for the interruption.” He turned his back to both Munakata and Fushimi and headed for the door.

“Ah, please wait, Zenjou-san,” Putting his disheveled collar in order, Munakata called out to stop him. “You have come at the perfect time, I was about to call for you myself… I would like you to listen to what I have to say.”

†

—Kusuhara Takeru’s death had a special meaning to it.

That was what Munakata said to his two subordinates, Zenjou and Fushimi.

The emergency dispatch happened on the same day Kusuhara had been transferred to the special ops squad. The case involved 3 Beta Class superpowereds.

It was not rare for strains who were not affiliated with superpowereds’ organizations to get easily roped into participating in criminal gangs and political extremist groups. That day’s case also started with a skirmish between criminal gangs for division of the spheres of influence.

It turned into a large-scale incident that mobilized not only the Blue King Munakata and the special ops squad, but also the regular swordsmen squads 1 and 2; however, since Beta cases had been occurring on an all too regular basis in the past few months, the one they had on their hands was not deemed anything atypical at the time.

The superpowereds, confirmed at the site, were promptly suppressed by the members of the special ops squad. That also went as usual, not giving any reason to consider the operation atypical either.

However, what happened immediately after was—

Kusuhara got shot with a handgun that one of the superpowereds had hidden.

For superpowereds – and especially those of Beta Class – to rely on something as common as firearms was very unusual. And this belief was what had proven to be the fatal blind spot for Scepter 4. Moreover, “His target was not squadsman Kusuhara… but myself.”

Out of all the troops in Munakata’s immediate vicinity, Kusuhara was the only one to react to the gun. Instinct and reflexes—

It was Kusuhara’s first opportunity to put his unique talent to use; it also became his last.

Guided by his reflexes, Kusuhara jumped into the line of fire. But he had not yet mastered his own superability enough to be able to instantaneously deploy his probability singularity field and repel the bullet.

As a result, the bullet, fired from behind Munakata’s back and bound for his heart, hit Kusuhara in the head. His death was instant.

“Squadsman Kusuhara died, sacrificing himself for me. This is the undeniable truth.”

Assassination of the Blue King Munakata Reishi – this was the true goal of the invisible “enemy”. The criminal gangs were no more than tools used by that “enemy” for his own ends.

Since some time ago, there had been signs. The sudden onslaught of cases involving Beta Class superpowereds was by no means a chance occurrence but a result of someone pulling strings behind the scene— and this was not his imagination running wild but a pragmatic conclusion.

Kusuhara’s incident had proven it beyond doubt: the series of those cases could no longer be regarded as simple accidents.

It was an attack attempt targeting Scepter 4 itself.

A clan of people with superpowers like Scepter 4 was a powerful organization far exceeding the boundaries of the civilian society, but at the same time it had a crucial vulnerability. There existed a possibility of the organization collapsing in an instant in case of death of its top brass or its king who stood at the very top of it.

—Squadsman Kusuhara’s death had two meanings to it, said Munakata.

The first one was, in exchange for his life, he was able to protect Scepter 4.

And the other one was, using the opportunity his death created, Scepter 4 was going to be reborn as an even stronger and tougher organization.

†

Scepter 4 got to business utilizing every means at their disposal in an attempt to uncover any trace left by the “enemy”. They started what is called “active intelligence gathering”, except their methods pushed the boundaries of typical police activity geared towards preservation of public safety.

All sorts of information flowed in: the data that Annex 4 itself had accumulated on superpowereds, records from every field operation conducted until just a few days ago, judicial and administrative information obtained through application of Code Blue, complete with the data that a test run of the digital surveillance system “Yuishiki” provided—

Before long, miscellaneous pieces of information started to fall into place, coming together to form the whole picture.

An 8-storey multiuse building located in a corner of Kamikouzuka business district in Toyosawa ward. A few Beta Class superpowereds were spotted coming in and out of it. At the very least there were 8 of them. That count banned any possibility of their comings and goings being accidental. Two of them were involved in a recent Beta Class incident and had been arrested.

And finally, on the 15th day since Kusuhara’s death—

10 large vehicles pulled up to surround the site: 9 were personnel transport trucks and one a command-and-intelligence vehicle. The anti-superpowereds organization Scepter 4 had ordered mobilization of its entire sword-armed force.

The highways had already been sealed and civilians had been evacuated out of the sieged building through cooperation of the local police that Scepter 4 enlisted.

One by one, men in blue uniforms with sabers strapped to their waist came out of the transport trucks, lining up in neat rows with agile movements. After the regular swordsmen squads 1 through 4, the special ops squad followed—

The last one to come out of the special ops squad’s truck was the one-armed giant of a man, Zenjou Gouki. At his waist, he wore a very long saber, modeled after a large wide-bladed longsword.

“We’ve confirmed 6 Beta Class and 11 Common Class superpowereds inside, as well as 5 non-powereds; 22 people in total. This case is on a completely different scale than anything we handled before, so prepare yourselves for a fierce battle. However…” Awashima addressed the lines of troops, “…our foremost objective is information gathering. So I trust you to make every effort and gain control of the situation while avoiding unnecessary bloodshed as much as possible regardless of whether it’s a superpowered you’re up against or a non-powered.” “Lieutenant,” Hidaka raised his hand. “Can interpret your “as much as possible” as a recommendative “preferably”?“ Hidaka asked, his left hand fiddling with the lock of his saber and his eyes devoid of any trace of humor. ”“As much as possible”,“ Awashima did not compromise. “Moron,” Fuse smacked Hidaka upside the head.

“—Well, that’s the spirit, as they say.” As Munakata approached, Awashima stepped away, ceding her position to him. After casting a look around and surveying the troops, who immediately straightened themselves under his gaze, Munakata recited:

“We will carry out the duty entrusted to those wearing swords. Permitting neither chaos on the holy ground nor violence in this drab world, We will advance with swords in hand, for our cause is pure.”

“Men, draw your swords!” “Yes, sir!”

At Awashima’s command, Akiyama, Benzai, Kamo, Doumyouji – all the members of the special ops squad lined up in one line released the lock on the sabers at their waists, drawing their swords one by one. Blue glow engulfed the blades as each of them unleashed their superpower.

Munakata was the last one to unsheathe his sword. His blade emitted light of a completely different level of intensity than his subordinates’, bathing his surroundings in it.

As if drawn out by the power of their king, the troops’ power also strengthened, dying the whole neighborhood blue.

Inside the command-and-intelligence vehicle, the personnel of the Intelligence unit of the special ops squad were reporting the situation, checking the data provided by the on-board information system and displayed on the monitors. “Activation of Captain Munakata’s sanctum, confirmed.” “”The Sword of Damocles”, taking physical form.“

One of the members in front of the monitors turned around.

“Fushimi-san…?”

The chief of the intelligence Unit Fushimi was looking up at the sky out the vehicle’s window. “…Ahh, it’s visible now.”

High in the sky up above the building a sword-shaped crystalline object was being conjured, its view partly cut off due to the window being small.

“Huuuge….” Fushimi narrowed his eyes, letting a cynical smile tug at the corners of his lips, “…Jeez, what a stupidly huge thing…”

“—Charge in!”

Together with Awashima’s command, power in the building was cut off. A saber reinforced with superability cut through the lock on the fire door like a knife through butter, opening the way. The operatives of the special ops squad poured in, proceeding to the top floor of the building which was going to serve as the site of this operation.

The only weapon the members were equipped with was a standard-issue saber. Conventional weapons and protective gear were ineffective when combating superpowereds; if anything, weight and restrictions they posed on the freedom of movement could easily prove fatal.

Inside, there was a barricade made with overturned tables. From the safety of it, several men fired bullets and threw bladed weapons imbued with their psychic powers.

The members of the special ops squad held up their sabers, consciously concentrating and extending the field from the blades forward, creating a shield of light to fend off the attacks.

Once the shield was in place, one of the members contracted his field to a narrow blade of light and launched it at the attackers, cutting the barricade clean in two, bisected pieces of it clattering as they fell to the floor. That done, another operative made a few thrusting motions not unlike fencing, and small balls of light flew off the tip of his blade, piercing the shoulders and thighs of the enemies, who were now out in the open, like bullets.

The troop members of Scepter 4 were official clansmen, who had their talent blossom and perfected under the Blue King. That was why the level of their abilities was in sharp contrast with that of Strains, who were only masterless strays.

Naturally, the fact did not preclude danger completely. A member, who focused on offense, risked getting his moment of defenselessness exploited and targeted by another one of the enemies. Also, since a small number of non-powereds armed with guns were mixed in the fray, there existed the possibility of a surprise attack from them to stay vigilant against at all times.

For that reason, the troops continued fighting while making sure to watch their squadmates’ backs in their defenseless moments and cover each other’s blind spots.

As far as odds went, practiced orderliness was what could be deemed the key element to having the upper hand in melee.

But—- Hidaka rushed in ahead of the line. “Hey, you’re too far ahead!”

Ignoring his comrade’s warning in favor of chasing after the retreating enemies, Hidaka charged ahead alone. “Doncha run away from me!” he howled at them. “C’mon, bring out your arrows, guns or whatever it is you got! Try to hit me! If you can, that is!”

As if in response to his challenge, a small can-like object rolled to his feet.

—A hand grenade?!

Given that they fought a closed quarters battle in a confined space, no one considered the possibility of explosives being actually brought into play.

Reflexively, Hidaka and the other squad members behind him put up their light shields, poised forward.

The “can” detonated, blinding light and thunderous roar stunning the operatives. A flash grenade, then.

Hidaka, isolated up in front, took the brunt of the enemy attack. Rendered blind and deaf, he had no means to protect himself, and his comrades could not help him – maintaining their own shields through loss of bearings and blurry vision took all of their concentration. “Hidaka…!”

Before Hidaka’s unseeing eyes, a black wall sprang up. No, what looked like a wall was actually an enormous back. The one-armed giant – Zenjou Gouki – had wedged himself between Hidaka and the enemy.

His saber was not drawn. The scabbard he was casually holding with an underhand grip glowed with bluish white light.

Not changing the grip, Zenjou raised the scabbard above his head and slashed with it downward and sideways. The bullets and blades imbued with psychic powers that were flying at Hidaka got knocked down all at once.

That done, with a thrust of his elbow, Zenjou sent Hidaka, who was trying to feel his way to keep going forward, flying backward.

“Gha…!” Breath knocked out of him by the blow, Hidaka flopped down gracelessly onto his fellow squadsmen.

The moment the enemy’s attention switched from Hidaka to Zenjou,

Slam—

Zenjou attacked.

Reinforcing his jump foot with his superpower, he bridged the distance of 5 meters in one stride, plunging straight into the thick of the enemy group.

Making full use of the momentum, the first blow from his saber’s scabbard broke an arm of one of his opponents, the second blow dug the scabbard’s tip deep into another opponent’s solar plexus. Another step, and another enemy folded in two having his kneecap kicked out from under him. The last attacker tried to run, only to be brought down with a slash to the back.

4 superpowereds had been taken care of in the blink of an eye.

One of the defeated enemies was still conscious. Producing a gun he had hidden on him, he fired.

Zenjou made a waving motion with his hand, like swatting a fly. His scabbard, still imbued with light, flicked the bullet away.

“Zenjou-san…” was all Enomoto, busy nursing Hidaka, could express. “…Are you a monster?” Fuse asked, sounding utterly dumbfounded.

Zenjou answered nothing.

The one-armed demonic swordsman simply stood there vacantly stock still, exuding an aura, that overwhelmed friends or foes alike.

†

Room by room, the enemy was gradually retreating deeper and deeper inside the building.

The troops were in pursuit, switching positions back and forth among themselves to make sure that their backs and blind spots stayed covered at all times, slipping deeper into the bowels of the floor like one fused being.

The enemy counterattacked precisely and tenaciously. Several operatives had been injured, falling victims to sly combinations similar to the one Hidaka was subjected to: a concentrated offensive in the wake of a surprise attack.

The odds were not improving as the time went by: although none of the wounds suffered were grave, as the number of the injured and retreating members increased, the overall advance of the troops slowed down, the momentum slowly ebbing away. As for the enemy, they could no longer afford to shelter their wounded; those left behind were put into anti-strain restrains and escorted to the back.

Although both sides were exhausted, Scepter 4 seemed to be gaining the upper hand, except—

‘Looks like we’re playing right into the enemy’s hands, here,’ Fushimi commented over the intercom link when he contacted Munakata at the site. ‘Their equipment isn’t exactly adequate and their level of proficiency with their powers is low. All the same, they seem awfully well versed in the anti-superpowereds tactics that we use. And their team work is well coordinated.’

From the GPS position data, as well as the encounter location information that PDAs of each member sent, the positioning of the entire force was mapped out on the monitors around Fushimi. Moreover, the location of the enemies was also being tracked down manually based on the footage from wearable cameras that a few operatives were equipped with and audio reports.

’…To top it off, this is not exactly going like your typical siege.’ Munakata nodded in agreement. “Yes, by employing the tactics of abandoning disposable footsoldiers at the site once they lose their use, the enemy is attempting to wear our forces down.” ‘Those footsoldiers must be insanely loyal to go through with a plan like that without objection, huh.’ “—Or, possibly, they are simply being used by whoever it is that stands behind them.” ‘Either way, we can’t take the mounting exhaustion of our forces lightly. I suggest we temporary retreat and regroup before someone finally dies.’ “Hm…” was Munakata’s non-answer to the crudely expressed suggestion. Putting a hand to his chin, he looked to be deep in thought, listening to the clamor of battle raging up ahead.

Just then—

“Captain.” Enomoto ran up to him. “This is a PDA we seized from one of the captured enemies.”

The all-purpose PDA that Enomoto held out was a commonplace market model you could find anywhere.

What was strange about it was— that it had signal.

Before the troops charged in, all operations of the base station providing mobile communications coverage for the area had been temporary suspended on the authority of Scepter 4. So the enemy established a communication channel through some other peculiar means… this was the only explanation.

Enomoto called up the call and address logs. “The opponents we’re fighting are, most likely, a hastily gathered group. They call each other by their assigned numbers.”

Munakata checked the display of the PDA. “22 contacts in total – from “Number 1” to “Number 22”, huh.“ “Yes. Although, there is also “Number 0” on the list.“ “Oh…?”

At this site, they were dealing with 22 opponents. At least that was how it was supposed to be according to Scepter 4’s intelligence. However, -—there were 22 opponents, plus “Number 0”.

In other words, a personage who, in the past half a month, had all but completely avoided all the nets they set up, was present somewhere on this floor.

“I would certainly like to meet them. No… I am being invited, in fact? What is their location?” “They seem to be in the room called “reception office”…“ “Fushimi-kun.” ‘The corner room of the south-west wing… at the end of the hallway and at the heart of the enemy-controlled territory.’ “I see.” ‘For the record: I do think it’s a trap.’ “Well then…” Munakata smiled.

“—But it’s dangerous, sir.” “I do not doubt it is,” Munakata calmly answered Awashima’s protest. “Awashima-kun. I ask you and the rest of the troops to hold this position for another, let’s see… 15 minutes should be enough. If, by some chance, I am not back in 15 minutes, feel free to give retreat orders at your discretion and in accordance with the situation.” “But…” Awashima opened her mouth to protest again but fell silent, leaving her objection unfinished.

As he gazed in the direction of the unknown “enemy” on the other side of the walls, a daring expression she had never seen before adorned Munakata’s countenance. “Well then, shall we go?”

Turning around, Munakata ordered tersely, “Accompany me, Zenjou.”

Without a word, Zenjou stared at Munakata, then took a step forward just as wordlessly.

Munakata started towards the heart of the enemy territory with long strides, and Zenjou followed close behind.

About a dozen of enemies that still remained and were lying in hiding, launched a barrage of attacks on the two people casually walking right down the middle of the hallway. Blades and bullets imbued with the attackers’ powers, as well as regular lead ammo and even lumps of concrete were fired and thrown at the two from all sides—

Munakata, smile on his lips never faltering, dodged the attacks or repelled them with a light flick of his wrist. Behind him, Zenjou, half-turned with his left shoulder jutting out a little, parried the attacks that came from behind, wielding the scabbard in his right hand with precision.

He also had time to dish out strong blows left and right with the scabbard as he walked. A hit from the scabbard, charged with his concentrated aura, punched through the walls and crushed barricades, knocking out the enemies in what was a very one-sided confrontation.

Bathed in the concentrated gunfire and psychic attacks, Munakata and Zenjou kept walking, never missing a step.

It took them less than a minute to reach the so-called “reception office”. Passing through was all they did, simply strolling along the hallway a few dozens of meters in length. Nothing more than that.

Yet the enemies that they had passed fell silent in their hiding spots – likely due to completely losing any fighting spirit they had.

Zenjou pushed the door to the “reception office”. It was not locked. Casting a quick look around the room, Zenjou was about to set foot inside but suddenly paused.

“Is something wrong?”

Zenjou wordlessly stepped aside, and Munakata entered the room.

A glance, and—- “Aah, well… we have been tricked, positively,” Munakata said with a wry smile.

†

The one to receive Munakata and Zenjou in the “reception office” was a black kitten.

It was sitting on a table, meowing quietly.

“Hehe… So you are “Number 0”?“

Jumping off the table, the kitten came closer, and Munakata leaned down reaching out his hand towards it. The kitten dodged it though, opting to nuzzle against Zenjou’s feet instead.

Munakata smiled a troubled smile. “Ever since I remember myself, I have always been disliked by animals.”

The kitten wore a green collar on its neck, which had a small box-shaped object attached to it.

Zenjou strapped the scabbard of his saber back to his hip and kneeled down. Holding out his hand to the kitten and lightly petting its head with his fingertips, he deftly unfastened the collar and presented it to Munakata.

Munakata took and carefully examined it. “I see. Someone was apparently providing the superpowereds instructions via this transponder… Its make seems quite elaborate, too.”

The corners of his beautifully shaped lips lifted in a delicate smile. “Green… It is a color I’m not fond of.”

Munakata raised his head and let the tension seep out from his shoulders. “Well then, this is it for today… I suppose.”

With that, he looked around the “reception office” they were currently in. Just as the name suggested, the room struck the beholder as mostly empty save for a table, a sofa and a few decorative trinkets. A huge picture window overlooking the city took up one entire wall.

Wielding his sword alongside his subordinates and defeating anyone who dared to stand in his way in pursuit of the invisible “enemy”, Munakata had arrived to an answer… which turned out to be this gigantic blank.

“We were certainly led around by the nose this time… Still, this, too, is a big step forward,” Munakata said. “I am sure that today’s combat experience will prove invaluable come a time when we have to do battle with the other Clans. The fact that I could finally welcome you, Zenjou-san, as part of the special operations squad is also significant. It would not be an exaggeration to say that everything is going the way it should.”

But—- “…”Everything”, huh?“ Zenjou muttered. ”…Oh?“

As if sensing something in Zenjou’s tone, Munakata turned off the intercom on his collar. ”…Zenjou-san. Let us have a little private chat before we summon Awashima-kun and the others.“ “Haah…” Zenjou made a puzzled face.

Munakata continued. “I believe Kusuhara-kun had asked you a question along the same lines once before… namely, had the man named Zenjou Gouki lost his value the moment he lost his left arm?”

Munakata looked pointedly at Zenjou’s left arm with a stare so direct that some would find it rude. “My answer would be “no”. I would even go as far as to say that it is through the loss of your arm that you have achieved completion.“

The kitten was purring and rubbing its head against Zenjou’s fingertips, while Zenjou himself remained silent.

“In the same fashion, through the loss of squadsman Kusuhara, my Scepter 4 is now on its way to completion. A death was necessary for the organization to achieve the state of completion… it might be prudent to put it this way.”

“…He…” Zenjou finally said after a lengthy pause. “Kusuhara was meant to die, is that what you’re saying?”

Zenjou stood up, and the kitten, sensing signs of anger in him, jumped back.

“Well…” Munakata pushed up his glasses, his expression unreadable due to being half-hidden with his hand. “If I said “yes”… would you slay me?“ he asked. “The same way you did your king, the Blue King Habari Jin, in the past?” “…!”

Zenjou’s expression underwent a change. Shock, anger – no, emotions even more violent than these were warping his face.

“July of 199X, the Kagutsu incident, and the moment that decided it… Caught up in the range, affected by the power outburst from the Red King, Kagutsu Genji, Habari Jin’s Sword of Damocles was also rapidly losing stability. That is, there existed an extremely high probability of chain eruptions of king’s powers being triggered.”

Munakata kept talking, even as Zenjou’s face froze in an expression of fury.

“Were two such outbursts to occur at the same time and place, theoretically, the resulting amount of energy, exponentially increased due to synergistic effect, would be enough to submerge the whole Kanto region after burning it down to cinders…  It is not at all far-fetched to surmise that the country itself would collapse in the aftermath.”

As if seeking to draw out a reaction from Zenjou, Munakata continued his monologue. “At that moment, one King’s life was weighed against the future of a whole country on the scale of fate. And a single God-sped stroke of your sword saved this country by delivering instant death to the Blue King and, consequently, obliterating his Sword of Damocles faster than an outburst could occur—”

Zenjou was not answering. He stood there silent, with his gaze boring into the floor.

—True, he was the one to slay Habari. He did not mean to avert his eyes from that fact. But at the same time, that action was not entirely his own judgement… he could not help thinking of it this way. His longsword flew out of its sheath smoothly and naturally – neither by his own will nor by someone’s expectations, but driven by something akin to an impulse of tremendous magnitude.

But, that, again, would still mean—

—that it was he who had slain Habari. That fact stood, unquestionable, and its weight was not going to disappear any time soon.

More than 10 years had passed, but he still was not sure if what he had done at the time was right.

Only, the image of Habari that had been burned into his mind—

“—That’s right. That’s how it should be.”  Habari smiled as he said that, bright and refreshing, and this memory was the only thing that kept him going.

“Yes… You were right.”

-—was now being overlayed with the image of Munakata before him.

—No, this was wrong.

This man was not Habari. Not his king, crystal pure to the point of transparency.

Zenjou’s hand reached for the hilt of the saber strapped to his hip, and froze on it, unmoving.

Zenjou hesitated.

Who was this man? What was lurking in the depths of his smile? Was he toying with people’s lives simply out of sickening wickedness of his heart? Or was he someone so great, with resolve to pursue justice so adamant that it defied understanding by a mere mortal?

He lost count to how many thousand, tens thousand times he kept asking himself those questions ever since meeting Munakata Reishi. They continued to remain complicated still, with no clear answer forthcoming.

Like a demon, or a beast, Zenjou let out a roar. The ferocious will, dwelling inside him, was gnashing its teeth helplessly, chained.

—Should he cut down the man in front of him, or should he not?

The two wills, two powers clashed within him violently, strained chains grinding against one another.

Something was welling up rapidly in his chest. It felt as though his blood was boiling, and his muscles were about to rupture throughout his entire body.

Zenjou raised his downcast eyes, fixing Munakata with a stare that was loaded with spirit so intense that it could very well kill, yet Munakata met it head-on and with a fearless smile on his lips.

That’s when—

Something that had nothing to do with his will, something that was much bigger than that, burst open within Zenjou.

Inside the long scabbard, immense power swelled up and exploded.

The demon’s blade flew out of its sheath, spraying the broken scabbard’s fragments all around.