After some time had passed, Mr. Bito returned, his coat soaked with rain. Behind him stepped a man dressed entirely in white, striding into the room with an oversized umbrella. Seto and I couldn't help but stare—his height alone exceeded the doorway. Even Majima, the biggest guy among us, had to crane his neck to look up at him.
"An eight-foot-tall spirit… the po lady?" Seto muttered under his breath, startled by the sight.
"Shh." I raised a hand to cover Seto's mouth.
"Seoki, come here," Mr. Bito called, motioning for me to act as interpreter.
I hurried to his side and looked up at the man—long, silky hair, a towering frame close to two and a half meters tall, and a face as delicate as a snow-country beauty. He removed a pair of snow-white head-mounted goggles and presented them to our boss.
"So this is the dream-making device you said you were developing?" Mr. Bito asked, inspecting the item.
"Zhis isz zhe prototaip Videniye Boga, verzion zero point seven," the beautiful stranger said, leaning down and speaking English with a thick Russian accent.
The moment I heard him, sweat broke out along my spine. I barely understood a word.
"What did he say?" Mr. Bito whispered.
I met the man's eyes. He smiled, chuckling softly, as if he already knew we were struggling to communicate.
"Zuhehe… don't wurry. I can fix zhat. Pleaz, giv me yor handr."
He extended his hand toward me. The instant our skin touched, a sharp current surged through my body and straight into my brain. I convulsed briefly, overwhelmed by the sensation—like plunging off a skyscraper.
"H—ha!"
The tall man straightened, folding his hands behind his back, a sly smile playing on his lips.
"Yokatta?[1]" he asked—this time, in flawless Japanese.
Mr. Bito froze, mouth agape. Just moments ago, we hadn't even shared a language.
"What did you do?" he demanded.
"Nothing to worry about," the man replied calmly. "I simply copied your Wernicke's area into my own brain."
"You read my memories?!" I clutched my head, dizziness washing over me.
"Extracting deeper memories is still under research," he said lightly. "Perhaps in the future. The dizziness will fade in about two minutes."
Mr. Bito cleared his throat. "Let's get back on topic. How does this thing work?"
"Yes. This device is still a prototype. The project was shut down last year, and it hasn't been trademarked. When worn, it functions much like a game. The system simulates an entire city. Simply put, it's a dream-simulation visor. The key lies in the wearer's imagination, stimulated through the hippocampus. You can create whatever you desire within that virtual world."
He paused, then continued.
"The higher the user's EQ, the more vivid and lifelike the world becomes. However, I strongly recommend connecting it to the virus-filter unit we've installed. The device feeds data directly into the prefrontal cortex, and we cannot yet predict the side effects if a virus infiltrates the system. Better to be safe."
"A truly marvelous invention," Mr. Bito said. "As for the payment, I've prepared it already."
He gestured to Seto, who brought over a bag stuffed with over a hundred million in cash and handed it to the tall man.
"Here you go."
"Thank you. Since this is your first time using our services, I'd like to offer you a bonus—an item currently under development."
He swapped the briefcase of cash for a black case of his own. When Seto opened it, he found a red spherical object inside.
"A nano-regenerative sphere," the man explained. "Cuts, burns, scalds, even loss of limbs—it suppresses damage immediately. Just place it on the wound and it will disperse, coating the injury. The texture is very soft. Go ahead, try touching it."
I picked it up and poked it with my finger. It yielded gently, like jelly.
"Feels like mochi," I muttered.
"Thank you for your business. I hope we'll work together again, Mr. Nishiya."
The tall man bowed deeply, though it did little to lessen his overwhelming height—then departed without another sound.
"Nishiya?" Seto squinted at our boss. "Since when? Bito-sama"
"An old alias," Mr. Bito replied. "Used it about ten years ago."
"Well then," I said, tossing the slime-like sphere back to Seto, "let's get this visor installed for Lady Kurayami."
I picked up the installation manual and scratched my head. The schematics were intensely technical.
"Uh…"
"Don't worry," Mr. Bito said. "I've got someone who specializes in this."
The azure butterfly slipped away from Seto and vanished down the bathroom drain, descending into a vast underground chamber filled with humming computer systems. There, a pink-haired man in pajamas lay face-down over a manga book at a workstation.
The butterfly watched as three men stepped out of an elevator.
"Dango~ Working late again?" someone called.
"Mmnn…" The nerdy man raised a hand, asking for a moment. Seto and I stood with our arms crossed while he brushed his teeth at a nearby sink. Once finished, he turned back toward our boss.
"Evening, boss. What can I help you with?" he said, stuffing a mooncake into his mouth and slipping on dark-tinted glasses.
Agai Shimon—better known as Dango.
Genius hacker of the Taiyoshin gang.
"This guy's the reason we've stayed off the police radar," Mr. Bito said proudly. "Never missed once since I hired him—though he's a shut-in who only comes out at night. Dango, these two are my new guys. Nearly a year on the job now, even if you've never met them."
Crunch!
"I've seen them plenty," Dango said through his snack. "Clean work every time. It's been ages since I've seen anyone who could replace the runners."
He approached us, grinning. "You guys tired? Me, I work twenty-four seven. Sleep in the mornings—five hours a week if I'm lucky. But hey, the pay's worth it."
"That's 22/7, man." Seto puffed his cheeks, striking a cool pose. "So you're a programmer, right?"
As Dango looked away, Seto snatched a snack and popped it into his mouth.
"Umami~"
"You've definitely got that overseas computer-engineering graduate look," I added.
Dango hesitated. "Actually… I got my degree through an MIT online program."
I rubbed my chin. "That's still impressive. How long are you usually down here?"
"Oh, I go outside from six a.m. to noon—once a week. That's it. Boss barely sees me. You night workers won't run into me anyway."
"About the job," Mr. Bito said, handing him the visor schematics. "I'll leave this with you."
Dango flipped through the pages quickly. "Got it. Might take about a week."
"If there's any screws to tighten, call me," Seto said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Except between six a.m. and noon."
I nodded at Dango. "See you around."
The three of us stepped into the elevator.
"Hey! Why are my snacks gone already?!" Dango's voice echoed behind us.
[1] Better yet?