Two days later.
A stretched luxury limousine glided smoothly down the road, its tinted windows separating the occupants from the bustling, rebuilt city of the Tokyo Area. Yotsuba Mahiro sat on one side of the plush interior, idly admiring the rapidly changing scenery outside the window. Beside him, Aihara Enju had leaned against his arm, her breathing soft and even as she dozed off. Next to Enju sat Asaka Mibu, who held a katana cradled in her arms, her fingertips lightly tracing the intricate, gilded patterns on the black piano-lacquered scabbard.
This was the new sword, Kitetsu, gifted to her by Shiba Miori, forged from a special Super-Varanium alloy. Perhaps feeling the gravity of the upcoming mission, she had chosen to bring it along.
However, for some reason, a tense and solemn atmosphere had settled inside the vehicle, a stark contrast to the comfortable opulence.
"....Mahiro-san," the Seitenshi suddenly spoke, her voice calm but direct, cutting through the quiet. "May I ask… was the disappearance of Yasuwaki Takuto and his security team… your doing?"
Three days had passed since Yasuwaki Takuto had vanished without a trace. Although the Seitenshi personally disliked the man, as the ruler of the Tokyo Area, she had still ordered a thorough investigation. But there had been no leads, no clues. It was as if he and his men had been erased from existence. He wasn't at his residence, and there were no witnesses who had seen him on the streets. The Seitenshi's thoughts had immediately turned to Yotsuba Mahiro; he was the only person in the entire Tokyo Area capable of such a clean, untraceable act.
"So you figured it out…" Mahiro replied, not even bothering to turn from the window. "I didn't expect you to be so perceptive, Seitenshi-sama."
"I don't understand, Mahiro-san," she pressed, ignoring his casual tone. "Why did you do this?"
"There's no profound reason," Mahiro said, finally turning his head and propping his chin on his hand, his expression one of utter disinterest. "I just… disliked that guy. And he happened to provoke me, cornering me in a restroom to threaten me into abandoning this commission. Not to mention he was preparing to lay hands on me." He shrugged lightly. "You know I can't just stand there and take a beating. So, I simply… got rid of him. It was convenient."
His tone was as calm as if he were discussing the weather.
"Besides, Seitenshi-sama," he added, a faint smirk playing on his lips, "didn't you dislike that guy, too?"
"....That is still not a justification for arbitrarily resorting to vigilante justice!" Her hands, resting on her lap, tightened slightly on the fabric of her pure white dress. The Seitenshi lectured him with a stern, serious expression. "Mahiro-san, if everything is truly as you say, you could have reported the matter to me. You should have let me handle it."
"Tell you… and then what?" he asked, his gaze sharpening.
"I would have punished him severely! According to the laws of the Tokyo Area!"
"Oh? And then what?"
"And then…?"
The Seitenshi faltered. She couldn't answer. Or rather, in her mind, wasn't punishing and warning him according to the law sufficient?
Of course, it wasn't. Mahiro knew it, and a part of her probably did, too.
"You're still too naive, Seitenshi-sama… No, it would be more accurate to say you're a bit… out of touch with reality."
His words caused the Seitenshi's brows to furrow in clear displeasure. She wanted to refute him, to insist she was not as he described, but before she could form the words, Mahiro continued, his voice taking on a lecturing tone of its own.
"Since you can't answer, allow me. After you 'punish' Yasuwaki Takuto and his thugs with a legal slap on the wrist—since true severe punishment isn't on the table—they will eventually seek revenge against me. The outcome then would be almost no different from what it is now. So, I ask you, why wouldn't I eliminate the threat from the very beginning, instead of wasting time on a pointless, cyclical charade?"
"No, that's not how it would be!" the Seitenshi wanted to cry out, but Mahiro pressed on, not giving her the chance.
"Besides," he said, his voice dropping, "my methods are ultimately beneficial to you, Seitenshi-sama. At the very least, they serve as a potent deterrent to others who might try to take advantage of your kindness or see you as weak. Externally, it projects an image of strength, sending a clear message that you are not an obedient puppet solely under Kikunojō Tendo's thumb. Isn't that a good thing?"
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes intent. "You should understand that decisive and ruthless action is often infinitely more effective than pale, powerless words and conventional morality. At the very least, after you demonstrate such iron-willed resolve, when you next try to introduce your 'Gastrea New Law,' you might not find your desk flooded with threatening letters every single day."
The Seitenshi pursed her lips, a silent admission. What he said was true. Ever since she had begun pushing for the Gastrea New Law, the opposition had been fierce. While most citizens were manipulated, the vitriol was real. She received threatening letters almost daily, some even containing dangerous items.
She understood the principle he was explaining. It could be effective.
But the problem was, that wasn't her. That wasn't the ruler she aspired to be.
"Using fear to rule a populace is the method of a dictator," she stated, her voice firm with conviction. "But I am not a dictator, nor do I wish to be a tyrant. What I strive for… is a world where all citizens can be treated with equality and compassion."
"And that, Seitenshi-sama, is why you are simply too much of an idealist."
Mahiro spread his hands in a gesture of helpless resignation.
"While I don't dislike your kindness and innocence—in fact, I somewhat envy them—and while your ideals might accomplish great things in an era of true peace… you were unfortunately born into the wrong era."
"Are you saying my ideals are… wrong?" she asked, a flicker of hurt and defiance in her eyes. Even without overtly derogatory words, the implication in his tone was clear, and it displeased her greatly.
In response, Mahiro, still propping his head with one hand, gave a noncommittal nod.
"Hai. They are wrong. Thoroughly and completely."
He met her gaze squarely, his own devoid of mockery, but filled with a cold, hard certainty.
"As the saying goes, 'in troubled times, one must use severe laws.' In this chaotic, broken era where warlords and monsters rise, what is needed is not a benevolent and compassionate savior, but a decisive ruler capable of sweeping away all opposition with an iron will. This has been proven countless times throughout history: only an iron-blooded monarch can suppress the demons and monsters lurking in the hearts of men and force them into submission."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in the luxurious silence of the limousine.
"And what you are trying to govern includes the Gastrea, beings far more monstrous and instinct-driven than any human demon. To face that, you must display strength and resolve an order of magnitude greater."
Seitenshi: "..."
She couldn't bring herself to agree with his harsh pragmatism. Even now, a part of her still clung to the belief that people could understand one another, that human nature was fundamentally good.
However, she was overlooking a simple, brutal truth. If people couldn't achieve mutual understanding even in times of peace, what hope was there in a world overrun by monsters? Consistent weakness and forgiveness only lead to boundless exploitation and eventual ruin.
Yet, in their recent exchange, the Seitenshi had caught a key point in his words, and it left her feeling deeply puzzled.
"Mahiro-san..." she began, her voice tentative. "Do you... hold some sort of grievance against the people of the Tokyo Area?"
"Who knows?" he deflected with a cryptic smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Perhaps I have grievances against all of humanity... But let's table this discussion for now. Look—we've arrived."
Mahiro gave her a final, unreadable look before gesturing out the car window. An 86-story super high-rise hotel loomed into view, a glittering monument of steel and glass. He remembered a year ago, when he and Kisara had executed a rather spectacular 'dine-and-dash' from the thirtieth-floor restaurant of this very building. He never expected to be returning under such different, formal circumstances a year later.
The Seitenshi, however, kept her gaze fixed on him, as if trying to peer past his nonchalant facade and into the shadows beneath. Based on her understanding of Mahiro, combined with his earlier words, she could now confirm it: he harbored a certain degree of hostility—no, it was closer to hatred—towards the citizens of the Tokyo Area. Moreover, this hatred seemed indiscriminate, a blanket condemnation of everyone.
But they had already arrived at the venue for the informal summit. The conversation was over. For now, the Seitenshi could only silently file this troubling realization away for later contemplation.
"Asaka, Enju," Mahiro instructed, turning to the two girls in the back seat as he prepared to exit the vehicle. "You two stay with the car. If you spot anyone suspicious trying to approach, don't hesitate. Eliminate them directly."
"Wakatta~!" Enju chirped, giving a cheerful thumbs-up.
"Hai. Enju and I will secure the perimeter. Please be sure to watch your own safety, Mahiro-sama," Asaka replied, her tone far more serious and meticulous.
The contrast between Enju's bubbly casualness and Asaka's solemn diligence was stark. But one thing was certain: regardless of their demeanors, they would carry out his orders with flawless precision.
Afterward, Mahiro fell into step behind the Seitenshi, a vision in pure white, as they slowly walked into the towering lobby of the hotel. However, as the private elevator began its ascent and the numbers on the panel rapidly changed, the Seitenshi's heart grew increasingly restless. A palpable unease settled over her.
She turned her back to Mahiro, gazing out at the sprawling panorama of the Tokyo Area through the elevator's glass wall. "Mahiro-san," she said, her voice soft but firm. "I have never met President Sōgen Saitake in person, but I know he is certainly not a simple man. I will be relying on you. Please… do not leave my side."
"Are you nervous? Or perhaps scared?" Mahiro teased lightly.
"A bit of both, I suppose…" the Seitenshi admitted frankly, turning to face him. "…The other party is someone even Kikunojō Tendo-sama finds troublesome to deal with. It is only natural that I must be extremely cautious. And—"
As she said this, she suddenly turned fully around, the hem of her white dress flaring slightly like the petals of a flower before settling.
"And this is my personal request," she stated, her expression utterly serious and earnest. "Please, under no circumstances, are you to threaten President Sōgen Saitake with force. Direct action is absolutely forbidden. Moreover," her gaze hardened, "I am not the ignorant child you seem to believe I am. Therefore, from this moment forward, I ask that you maintain, at the very minimum, the respect due to me as a head of state."
"Of course," Mahiro replied, a flawless, diplomatic smile instantly gracing his features. "I have always held the utmost respect for you, Seitenshi-sama."
He was no fool. He knew precisely when to joke and when to present a united, professional front. Saving face for the Seitenshi in front of a foreign leader was paramount.
And…
"You underestimate me," he added, his voice dropping to a whisper so quiet it was almost stolen by the elevator's hum. "If I truly intended to do something… I would have chosen a location far from here."
He said this just as the elevator chimed and glided to a smooth halt. The Seitenshi heard him perfectly. Her eyes widened slightly as she looked at him, a mix of shock and reprimand in her gaze.
But it was too late to say anything more. The polished bronze doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing their destination.
"After you, Your Highness," Mahiro said, offering his arm with practiced gallantry.
"..."
The Seitenshi shot him a slightly exasperated look, but after a moment's hesitation, a faint blush colored her fair cheeks as she silently placed her hand in the crook of his elbow.
The summit room was breathtaking. The first thing that struck them was the vista of a brilliant blue sky, visible through a vast, semicircular ceiling made of transparent hexagonal reinforced glass, creating an illusion of infinite, open space. The Osaka Area's setup was a mirror of their own. Apart from a single, burly man standing like a statue beside a plush sofa, there was only one other person in the room: a bearded man seated comfortably.
After a moment, the seated man noticed their arrival and rose to his feet, turning to face them.
"A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Seitenshi-sama."
He had a head of slicked-back hair, a thick, well-groomed beard, and a noticeable potbelly that strained against his dark, expensive suit. A pair of British gentleman's spectacles sat on his nose, creating a strangely mismatched impression of a reformed gangster trying to play the refined politician. This was Sōgen Saitake, President of the Osaka Area.
But his voice faltered slightly as his eyes landed on Mahiro. He looked the young man up and down with an appraising, intense stare.
"And if I'm not mistaken," Sōgen Saitake continued, his focus shifting entirely, "the gentleman accompanying you must be the now quite famous Yotsuba Mahiro of the Tokyo Area, correct?"
Am I already that famous? Mahiro thought, a flicker of surprise crossing his mind. He subtly turned his head, exchanging a quick, questioning glance with the Seitenshi. But she gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head; she hadn't been the one to spread his name.
Moreover, the man's gaze was a bit too fervent, too probing. It made Mahiro's skin crawl with a faint discomfort and a primal urge to simply slap the fanaticism right off the other man's face.
However, what concerned him more were Sōgen Saitake's next words.
"Excellent that you're here. This saves me the trouble of having to seek you out for a separate discussion."
"Seek me out?" Mahiro's eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. If his memory served him correctly, this was his first time ever laying eyes on this man; there was no connection between them whatsoever.
Sōgen Saitake, however, let out a low, confident chuckle.
"It's nothing too complicated. I simply wish for you to transfer Arcadia—that sanctuary for the Cursed Children you've established—to the jurisdiction of the Osaka Area. Then, you yourself will come under my command. What do you say?"
He spread his hands wide, his eyes beginning to gleam with a disturbing, zealous light.
"A weak, incompetent, and sentimental backwater like the Tokyo Area cannot possibly utilize a talent of your magnitude! Why chain yourself here? Come to the Osaka Area! Join forces with me! With your unparalleled strength, my strategic vision, and an army composed of those very Cursed Children…" his voice rose with manic energy, "…we can make the entire world bow down at our feet!"
The fanaticism in Sōgen Saitake's eyes was unmistakable, his tone becoming increasingly elevated and unhinged.
The Seitenshi's brows furrowed in clear displeasure. She hadn't expected the President's opening gambit to be such a blatant attempt at poaching one of her key assets right in front of her. But what surprised her even more was the content of his proposition. According to him, Mahiro-san had established a sanctuary for Cursed Children? The revelation was startling, but there was no time to process it now.
"President Sōgen Saitake," the Seitenshi said, her voice stern and laced with authority, "you will retract those reckless words. Such a violent, domineering ambition for world conquest will not be tolerated, first and foremost by myself and the Tokyo Area."
"Heh…"
Sōgen Saitake sneered disdainfully, slowly rising to his full height to look down upon the Seitenshi. "Seitenshi-sama, you truly are a short-sighted woman. Have you never once considered how the world should be reordered once the Gastrea are finally expelled?! Japan, as the nation that recovered most swiftly from the Great War, naturally has the right—the duty—to become the leader of the new world! This is the destiny of our people! This is a grand vision that considers the bigger picture!"
A terrifying madness bloomed in his pupils. He waved his arms, spittle flying from his lips as if he were already envisioning himself as a supreme ruler standing above all others.
He then turned his fervent gaze back to Mahiro. "Now that you have heard my glorious plan, what is your answer, Yotsuba Mahiro?"
"That's quite an… interesting proposition," Mahiro said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "But, I refuse."
This man's audacity to demand everything for nothing was one thing, but the real issue was how he knew about Arcadia. He had been meticulous in his secrecy; only a handful of trusted individuals were aware. Shiba Miori had specifically warned him to keep it under wraps, and the location in the derelict District 39 was supposed to be invisible to prying eyes. Yet, this man, whom he was meeting for the first time, knew intimate details about his operations.
Was there a leak from Miori's side? he wondered.
As a matter of habit, Mahiro subtly activated his Sharingan, analyzing the information body of the man before him. And he discovered something entirely unexpected.
What is that?
He "saw" a strange tattoo on Sōgen Saitake's right pectoral muscle: the distinct, ominous emblem of five wings. He recognized that design. The agents of the Five Wings Syndicate—the very same group that had attempted to destroy the Tokyo Area by summoning Scorpio—had borne the same mark.
In an instant, the pieces clicked into place.
Upon hearing his refusal, the Seitenshi relaxed slightly. The tension in her shoulders eased, and her grip on her lace gloves loosened. Mahiro glimpsed this and couldn't help but complain inwardly.
Oy, Seitenshi, don't tell me you were actually worried? This is just the opening act.
Still, he chose to pour a little more fuel on the fire. "Oh, and one more thing I forgot to mention," he added casually. "This is a diplomatic summit, not a mental institution. If you're suffering from delusions of grandeur, I recommend the psychiatric hospital in Tokyo's Third Ward. I hear they have a lovely garden."
He never expected to encounter a bona fide "rule the world" madman in this day and age. Not that ruling the world was inherently a bad goal—but it required the corresponding power, and it was painfully clear this man named Sōgen Saitake possessed none of it. If the Seitenshi was an idealist, then this man was a full-blown delusional patient, the kind who deserved to choke in a cesspit!
"You! What did you just say?!"Sōgen Saitake's face turned ashen with rage. His thick hand clenched, almost splintering the wooden armrest of the sofa, and a barely perceptible glint of murderous intent flashed in his eyes!
"How dare a mere Promoter speak to President Sōgen Saitake in such a manner!" the burly bodyguard roared, stepping forward.
Tendo-ryū Bugei, First Style, Technique Eight—
En'en! (Flame Fan!)
Mahiro's hand moved in a blur. He didn't throw a punch, but rather used his palm like a fan, striking with explosive speed.
SMACK!
A crisp, sharp sound echoed through the quiet room. The bodyguard who had just spoken was sent flying backward as if hit by a truck, crashing into the far wall with a heavy thud.
Sōgen Saitake hadn't even clearly seen what happened; he only felt a gust of wind sweep past him, and his subordinate was already airborne.
"President Sōgen," Mahiro said, calmly wiping his hand as if brushing off dust, "please control your subordinate. Next time, it won't be something as gentle as a slap."
He had completely disregarded every one of the Seitenshi's earlier requests, tossing them straight into the Mariana Trench without a second thought, utterly unconcerned with the diplomatic fallout.
But strangely, the Seitenshi showed no reaction. There was no panic, no reprimand. She simply sat there with perfect composure, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her back ramrod straight.
"President Sōgen," she said, her voice cool and collected, "shall we move on to the actual agenda?"
Sōgen Saitake clicked his tongue in irritation, completely ignoring his groaning subordinate. He waved a dismissive hand. "Hai, hai… Let's begin."
You've improved, young lady, Mahiro thought, looking at the Seitenshi with a flicker of surprise as she formally began the detailed discussions with Sōgen.
And two hours later, the first informal meeting concluded.
The only tangible outcome was the crystal-clear understanding, forged the moment they had entered the room, that the Seitenshi and Sōgen Saitake were fundamentally, irreconcilably opposed—sworn enemies destined for conflict.
***
Chapter 82 was flagged for potential teen safety violations. Gotta wait 2 days for a decision.