Black Bullet - Volume 1 - Chapter 1.1

BLACK BULLET 

CHAPTER 01

THE TENDO CIVIL SECURITY AGENCY

1 SPRING.

Beneath an evening sky dyed red, the square-jawed, rough-faced senior inspector of the homicide department approached the fine-featured, thin young man threateningly. “Huh? You’re the civil officer who’s here to help us? Even stupidity has its limits. You’re just a kid!”

The young man who was being approached with such derision, Rentaro Satomi, let his listless eyes slide up to the side, looking idly at a crow cawing as it returned to its nest. All he wanted was to go home.

Rentaro answered the inspector evasively, grumbling, “Doesn’t matter what you say. I can’t do anything about it. I’m the civil officer who’s here to help. I have a gun and a license. My boss told me to come here, so I did, because I had to, but if you’re going to doubt me, I’m going home.”

Clucking his tongue, the inspector started walking around Rentaro, narrowing his eyes as if appraising him. “That uniform… You a student?”

Rentaro looked down at his uniform. On the chest of his pitch-black uniform that looked just like a suit was the embroidered insignia of Magata High School. “What’s wrong with that?” he said.

“So these days even kids can play at being civil officers, huh?” said the inspector. “Show me your license.”

When Rentaro pulled out his license, the inspector looked at the picture on it and compared it to Rentaro’s face. He snorted. “That’s an unlucky mug. Not real photogenic, are you?” he laughed, his stomach shaking.

This is work, too. Just deal with it, Rentaro said to himself as he glared at the inspector.

The inspector, who introduced himself curtly with nothing more than “I’m Tadashima,” threw the license back at Rentaro. “Tendo Civil Security Agency, huh? Never heard of it.”

“It’s ’cause we aren’t that well known,” said Rentaro. “Uh, sorry to rush things along, but can we talk about work now?” Rentaro lifted his face and looked up at the dilapidated apartment building in front of them. Cracks, filth, corrosion, and damage made it stand out, but it was an extremely normal six-story apartment building. It was called the Grand Tanaka. “This is really where the trouble is?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Tadashima. “The guy in Room 102 called screaming, saying there was blood leaking down from the room above. Putting all the info together, there’s no doubt it’s a Gastrea. Anyway, let’s get in there already. Friggin’ finally.” At the finally, Tadashima raised his voice, as if intentionally trying to be overheard, and walked into the building.

Civil officers and inspectors not getting along wasn’t anything new, but it was so obvious that rather than being angry, Rentaro was just disgusted. He stopped in front of the building, seriously considering going home, but then reluctantly followed the man in.

Shortly after the defeat, a law was put in place stating that no one was to enter the scene of a crime involving Gastrea without a civil security officer, or “civsec” for short. It was a necessary step in the efforts to try to slow down the skyrocketing rate of police officer deaths, but there wasn’t a police officer to be found who welcomed with open arms the civil officers who were stepping into their jurisdiction.

At that moment, Tadashima put his rough face close to Rentaro’s, as if realizing something. “Hey, where’s your Initiator partner? You civil officer fighters come in pairs, don’t you?”

“Oh, I didn’t think this was bad enough to need her,” said Rentaro. He was startled on the inside, but he couldn’t admit that he’d accidentally left her behind. Thinking that maybe it was a bad idea to not have her after all, he looked back down the dim hallway they came from, scratching his head.

When he heard about the Gastrea incident in their neighborhood from the agency president, his one and only boss, he remembered pedaling his bike seriously for once, trying not to let another agency get the job before them. He must have left his partner behind at that point, too. He just hoped she didn’t get lost.

When he got up to the scene, room 202, there were already a bunch of officers gathered near the door.

“Has there been any change?” asked Tadashima.

At Tadashima’s words, one of the squad members looked back with a pale face. “S-sir. Just now, two point men went in through the window. After that, we had no further contact with them.”

The atmosphere at the scene froze.

“You idiots! Why didn’t you wait for the civil officer to arrive?!”

“We didn’t want the guys who always come and run wild on the scene stealing the credit from us! You know how that feels, don’t you, sir?”

“Who cares about that?! Anyway—”

“Outta the way, you idiots! I’m gonna break in!” Rentaro interrupted.

Tadashima looked into Rentaro’s eyes for a second and jerked his chin with an order. Two of the fully equipped police squad members waiting behind them were stationed in front of the door, holding shortened door breacher shotguns at the hinges of the door.

Rentaro also pulled out his gun, a Springfield XD, from his belt, cocking the slide as he did so he could fire if necessary. He took a deep breath to clear his mind. Wiping the sweat from the palm of his hand on his pants, he clicked his tongue. This had really turned into a troublesome case. “Do it,” he said.

The two shotguns fired at almost the same time Rentaro kicked down the door. His eyes narrowed for a second as the brightness of the setting sun flooded his vision. As if rising out of the sunset, the small, six-tatami-mat room was dyed with the setting sun. However, something redder than the setting sun was spilled out all over the floor of the living room. There was also the rich, unmistakable smell of blood. Two police squad members had been thrown against the wall, dead.

Rentaro saw something he found hard to believe there. In the middle of the room, a tall man was standing still. He was probably over 190 centimeters tall. His too-skinny arms and legs were attached to a too-skinny torso. The mysterious figure was outfitted in a wine-red pinstriped tailcoat, silk hat, and to top it all off, a maschera mask, like you’d wear to a masquerade.

The Gastrea was gone. But who was this man…?

Eventually, the masked man turned around and gave a faint smile. From behind the mask, he turned his sharp gaze to Rentaro. “You’re rather late, civsec, my boy.”

“What…? Are you…in the same business?” said Rentaro.

“It’s true that I was also after the Gastrea that was the source of the infection. However, I am not in the same business as you. Why, you ask?” The man spread his arms in front of him as if performing on stage. “Because I am the one who killed the two police officers.”

The instant Rentaro realized the man was an enemy, his body reacted. He closed the gap between them in an instant and hit the man with the heel of his hand, not waiting for an answer. The angle and timing of the attack were both good.

“Oh, you’re rather skilled,” said the man.

Just as Rentaro thought the masked man looked like he was having fun taking the attack, there was an impact on his chest. The punch made Rentaro’s chest cave, throwing him across the room. He crashed onto the glass coffee table in the living room on his back, winded.

What in the world is this guy? Rentaro thought. His face twisted in extreme pain, he opened one eye and saw the masked man winding up his fist for another close-range punch. As he hurriedly rolled off it, the glass table splintered with a shrill crash. Rentaro was able to jump out of the way and stand up, but a roundhouse kick came right at the side of his head, as if his evasive position had been anticipated. Both he and the arm he put up to block the attack were sent flying into the wall with the terrible force of the kick.

The masked man sniffed contemptuously.

Rentaro was dizzy with despair at the vast difference in their abilities even as he took a firm stance.

Then, an out-of-place ringtone echoed through the room, and the masked man picked up the phone. “Kohina? Um, yeah. I see, okay. I’ll go meet up with you.”

“Look over here, you monster! This is for my friends!” shouted a voice.

When Rentaro turned to look, standing in the door were a number of police squad members holding carbine rifles.

The masked man quickly drew a gun from the holster on his hip without even looking in their direction. Blood suddenly erupted from their blue tactical vests and splattered on the wall. The masked man kept firing, and three people who used to be human were shot down in the blink of an eye. The officers waiting outside became agitated.

Rentaro closed the gap with all his strength and stepped firmly on the floor. “Tendo Martial Arts Second Style, Number 16: Inzen Kokutenfu!” The round kicks that he fired off in return were avoided by neck movements from the masked man, but Rentaro stepped quickly into his second attack and unleashed his Inzen Genmeika. Rentaro fired off high kicks that didn’t miss their mark this time, and hit the masked man’s maschera directly.

Rentaro started to yell “Yes!” but the man put a hand on his neck—which had been twisted back with the force of the kicks—and forced it back into position with a strange sound. The most surprising part was that the man did not once let go of his cell phone. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just a little busy. I’ll be there soon.” Flipping his cell phone closed, he didn’t move, looking intently at Rentaro.

Rentaro felt chills freeze his blood.

The man let out some short laughs as he held his mask to his face. “Oh my, that was wonderful. Even though I was not paying attention, I didn’t think you’d actually get a hit in. I would love to kill you right here, but there’s something else I must do right now.”

He stopped talking for a moment, and his piercing eyes looked at Rentaro from the depths of the mask. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Rentaro…Satomi.”

“Satomi…Satomi, huh?” the man mumbled to himself, sidestepping the pieces of glass from the broken window and going out to the balcony, putting his leg on the handrail.

“Let’s meet again sometime, Satomi… Or should I come find you?”

“You… What are you?”

“I am the one who will destroy the world. No one can stop me.” The man jumped down from the balcony in a single bound.

For a while, Rentaro’s stiffened body couldn’t move, as if it had been sewn down. He opened his sweaty palms and closed them hard. Could such a powerful being exist in this world?

He heard a groan and looked back with a start. The men who were shot by the mysterious masked figure were seriously injured and were being carried out on stretchers, their friends calling desperately to them.

Rentaro’s fist shook. Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder give him a strong shake.

“Get a hold of yourself, civsec! We’ve been prepared for this since starting this job. What you need to do right now is—”

Rentaro clucked his tongue and shook Tadashima’s hand off. “I know! I have to stop the Pandemic first!” Looking at the clock on the wall, he gathered his thoughts and gave himself a pep talk. He had lost a lot of time, but his work wasn’t over yet. Shutting out thoughts of the strange man from his consciousness for the moment, Rentaro, gun in hand, cautiously checked the bathroom and inner Japanese-style living room, opening all the closets. Finally, he opened the only thing left to check—a large wooden closet.

Inside, there was nothing but clothes.

“Hey, what’s going on? Where’s the Gastrea?” said Tadashima.

Rentaro was a little confused hearing Tadashima’s voice behind him, but he put his gun away and went back to the living room.

The problem was a puddle of blood that had spread on the floor where the masked man had been standing. It was not the man’s blood. He had not been injured. And even though Rentaro didn’t want to think about it, this was enough to be fatal.

Rentaro looked at the picture frame on the low table. It was a picture of a family, with the daughter tucked in between the loving embrace of the husband and wife. “The guy living here was living by himself, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, it was a man living by himself,” Tadashima answered.

Rentaro checked the ceiling. “What the…?”

Tadashima made a face, following Rentaro’s gaze. There was an object stuck to the ceiling with green gel. Rentaro jumped and touched the thing stuck to the ceiling. He rubbed it with his fingers, and it felt extremely sticky.

“There’s no mistake that the victim was attacked here,” said Rentaro. “But the victim probably escaped from the window of the living room looking for help. And then, I don’t really wanna say it, but moving around after losing this much blood, he’s probably…”

Tadashima nervously groped around in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. “Let me get this straight. Not only is the source of the infection still walking around somewhere, but the infected person is, too?”

Rentaro nodded. “Inspector Tadashima, please evacuate the neighborhood immediately and request a blockade to seal off the area. They couldn’t have gone far. We should look outside, too. If we wait until it becomes a Pandemic, demotion’s gonna be the least of your worries.”

It was like drifting between being awake and being half-awake. There was a reassuring floating bridge connecting the two, but just as the man realized what it was, it would disappear.

Before he knew it, he had stopped his wandering around in the sunset. He looked to his right and to his left. Why was he walking around this place? Even though it was at some remove from his home, the view in the distance looked familiar, so this had to be be somewhere in the Tokyo area. He couldn’t say exactly where he was, but he had a faint memory of the scene around him. He thought maybe he was so drunk that his senses had gotten confused, but his thoughts were clear and he had not lost his sense of balance, except for the slight languidness left in his body.

He shook his head slightly. What was his name? It was Sumiaki Okajima, of course. After having the name for forty-five years, he wasn’t going to forget it that easily. It was fine up to that point. But then why was he in this place? No matter how hard he thought, he could not come up with a single explanation.

It didn’t seem like he was sleepwalking. This was a residential area, but he didn’t have any friends who lived in the area. He couldn’t possibly have trekked all the way out here, then. Or perhaps he had just set out on an aimless walk, and the inertia of his feet had carried him here. Inertia, he repeated inside his head and couldn’t help but smile bitterly.

Ever since the company he worked for had gone under, it was as if he’d just kept living through inertia. Tired of having his savings get lower and lower, he’d tried to compensate for their loss through gambling and poker, but that was the beginning of the end. By the time his delirium died down and he was able to objectively see how stupid he had been, he had already paid an immense fee to learn his lesson.

After the Gastrea War, Sumiaki had looked with scorn on those people who had lost their purpose in life and were slowly killing themselves, but he had now turned into exactly what he had scorned in the past.

He could not bring himself to blame his wife and daughter, who had washed their hands of him early on. When he lost money, he would get drunk and violent. No one could call him an excellent father by any standard. His ability to barely maintain a clear head was, pathetically, because he had run out of money to buy alcohol. His house had been foreclosed upon, and now that he spent all day in his cramped apartment spacing out, he’d grown uneasy at not being a productive member of society, and was occasionally so overwhelmed with emptiness that he wanted to scream.

Sumiaki bought a sports drink from a vending machine by a utility pole and put it to his mouth. Maybe it was because the flavor was too light, but it didn’t taste like anything to him. He downed the five hundred milliliters in the blink of an eye, but it just seemed to make him even thirstier. “Seriously, why am I here—”

At that moment, Sumiaki was taken aback, hearing someone yelling in a loud voice.

“Rentaro, you insensitive imbecile!”

In front of him, he saw a girl with a long shadow walking toward him. She seemed about ten years old, wearing a short skirt and a fancy coat lined with a checkered fabric. She had thick-soled lace-up shoes, and her hair was tied with largish hair ties into pigtails that swayed slightly left and right.

As he passed her, he heard her furious voice saying, “You bastard, you’ve got some nerve abandoning me, your fiancée, like that!”

It seemed like someone had left her behind, but she passed Sumiaki without noticing his presence. Thinking she lived in the area, he called her from behind. “Miss, can you give me some directions?”

He himself was surprised at how suspicious he sounded, so it made sense that the girl was surprised. She lifted her face, suddenly jumping and backing away.

“W-wait, please. I don’t mean you any harm. My name is Sumiaki Okajima, and I think I live around here, but I don’t know how to get home.”

The girl looked at him without moving a muscle. As he was thinking about what else he could say to clear up any misunderstanding, the girl seemed to realize something and looked at him in bewilderment. “Sir… You don’t know what has happened to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s nothing I can do for you. Of course, there’s nothing anyone else in the world could do for you, either. But… Well, is there anything you have left to say in the end? To your family or friends? You have someone, right, sir?”

“What in the world are you saying?”

“I’m not saying this because I want to. But Rentaro says it’s my duty to tell the person, so that’s why I’m telling you, sir.”

Their conversation wasn’t meshing properly. Sir? This girl that barely came up to Sumiaki’s chest was looking at him with what seemed like pity in her upturned eyes.

“You have not realized, after all? Then you should take a look at yourself. But do it slowly, so as not to fall into a panic. Then you will understand my words.”

Overpowered by the mysterious resignation the girl emitted, Sumiaki looked at himself. “What the… What is this?” His abdomen was dyed red. No, it wasn’t just his abdomen. He had a large wound that looked like he was ripped open up to his collarbone or throat, and there was still fresh blood flowing from it. His blood was dripping and forming a puddle on the paved road where he was standing.

Gingerly touching his abdomen with his hand, he felt a slippery, unpleasant sensation. Why didn’t he notice until now? Why didn’t it hurt, anyway? What had happened to him? Just then, his vision took a turn for the worse, and it looked like the sky and the earth switched places. The next thing he knew, Sumiaki had collapsed on the ground. “I…remember. That’s right, I became penniless, and then…”

In the countless job interviews Sumiaki had gone to, his character would occasionally be attacked, and he would be tormented by frustration that made him grind his teeth. Eventually, he was hired as a solar cell module cleaner. It was hard work, but he was guaranteed a certain wage, so once his life settled down, he might even be able to bring his wife and daughter back to live with him. It was still just a dream, and his goal for the time being was just to put his life back together, but once he realized there were still things that he could do, his body was filled with excitement.

He wanted to at least hear their voices. Thinking that, he had gone out to the balcony of his apartment to call his wife’s parents’ house. In the few rings it took for the other side to answer, Sumiaki looked up suddenly, which might have been the most unfortunate thing he did in his life.

There was a giant, human-size organism stuck to the wall on the fourth floor. It seemed to choose the moment Sumiaki noticed it to move, and its two eyes flashed red like fresh blood as it climbed down.

“I ran away after almost being killed by that Gastrea, and got all the way here.”

“You have infectious Gastrea in your bodily fluids,” the girl said in an emotionless voice.

Sumiaki looked at the marks left by two fangs on his collar. “Oh,” a resigned sound leaked out of his throat.

He remembered what he saw many times on TV during the war. A lab rat was injected with the Gastrea virus, and minutes later became a terrifyingly strange-looking creature that scared audiences out of their wits when it gave a cry.

After the girl pointed it out, his calf started to itch, and his body grew hot, tormented by a pressure that was bursting out from the inside. His DNA was probably being rewritten at high speed that very second. The next thing he knew, his eyes welled with tears. “Then you’re a civil officer’s…?”

“Yes, I am an Initiator. My name is Enju Aihara. I’m ten, and old enough to be a real lady.”

He tried to smile, but his face twisted with a spasm. His body was already starting to move on its own. “I have a favor to ask… Will you apologize to my wife and daughter for me? Tell them I’m sorry for everything I did.”

“I will.”

That was the last of the world Sumiaki saw. Just like that, he passed the critical point where he could stay in human form. Just as it seemed like his arms and legs were shriveling faster than common sense would allow, long, thin, pitch-black legs sprang out from his body as if piercing through it. Hair sprouted from the legs, and four pairs of glowing red eyes appeared on the head. His abdomen swelled up like a ball, and from the corners of his mouth, two glistening fangs grew in. The yellow-and-black spotted pattern would fill a human with a visceral disgust. This was a giant spider.

The petite girl didn’t scream or run away. She just quietly readied herself. Then, she was interrupted by a voice from a completely different direction. “Gastrea—Model Spider, Stage One, confirmed. Entering battle with it now!”

“Rentaro!” said the girl.

“Enju, you okay?”

Enju ran to him. Rentaro also ran toward her with his arms spread wide. Even if it was just for a short time, the two had been apart, and under the slowly setting sun, in a flood of emotions, they reunited with an embrace—an embrace Enju would under no circumstances allow, as she let loose a kick straight at Rentaro’s crotch.

“Owwwwww…” Holding his crotch, Rentaro went to his knees and put his forehead to the ground. Writhing with an intense pain unknown to any woman, Rentaro clenched his teeth and lifted his face. The girl, Enju Aihara, 145 centimeters tall, was looking down arrogantly at him with her hands on her hips.

“You have some nerve shamelessly showing your face in front of me again after throwing me off the bicycle.”

“A-are you mad?”

“Of course I am.”

“I-I had no choice. If I didn’t get this job, Kisara would have kicked my butt, you know!”

“I would do the same if you abandoned me.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“You should just offer your buttocks quietly. Then the only remaining problem would be who is going to kick it. You can choose who will kick it.”

“Dummy, who wants to choose between two options like that?”

The two were interrupted once again by the roar of a gunshot. Arriving late to the scene was Tadashima, holding a smoking revolver in his hand. “Hey, you two! Are you ignoring the enemy to do a comedy sketch? Do your job, civsec!”

The newly born Gastrea’s skin spurted blood when the bullet hit it, but in the next instant, it began healing with terrifying speed, and finally spit out the .38-caliber bullets that Tadashima had fired from the healed wound. The Gastrea turned its head toward Tadashima and let out a shrill cry. Not good.

Rentaro decided it was faster to rush over and knock Tadashima to the ground than it was to yell at him to duck.

“Oof! What’re you doin—”

The giant spider lowered itself and jumped, scraping the area the two had just been with incredible force. Tadashima’s face paled.

“Inspector, this is a single-factor Jumping Spider Gastrea.”

“J-jumping spider?”

“The original is a spider that can jump tens of times its body length to get food. You can tell from the characteristic coloring on its body. Also”—Rentaro took Tadashima’s revolver—“regular bullets are not that effective against Gastrea. If you shoot at them, you’ll just make them excited, so you’re not supposed to use them.”

“Then how are you supposed to defeat them?!”

Just then, a dark shadow covered them, and Tadashima let out a short scream.

The smell of rotten eggs hit their noses, and Rentaro turned around slowly after feeling a chill run up his back. There was the giant spider with all eight legs opened wide. Opening and closing its mouthparts and fangs with venom glands on them, its stomach faced him. Its physical form and flashy coloring brought on a visceral feeling of disgust, and its spinnerets made a grating sound.

Seeming to suddenly notice something, the Gastrea quickly turned its body to face the small girl. Pointing its spinneret at the girl, it trembled and suddenly covered the girl’s body with something that looked like a casting net, and changed positions.

“Eww, what is this? It’s rather sticky.”

The girl tried pulling at it with her hands, but whenever she did, the viscous threads wound themselves around her more.

At that moment, Rentaro glanced sharply at the glowing, slimy green strands, completely unlike a normal spider’s silk. It was the same as the stuff he had seen in the victim Sumiaki Okajima’s house.

“Get down, Enju!”

“Huh?”

The girl couldn’t react to the quick order. Her frail body was thrown to the side, and she flew almost twenty meters, scraping the ground so violently that she left a mark.

“Enju!” Rentaro shouted as he quickly drew his gun from his belt and pulled the trigger. His arm jumped with the recoil from the intense discharge. The second the bullet hit, the Gastrea let out a loud scream and tried to protect itself with its eight legs as it retreated. There was no sign of the wound starting to heal itself.

All right, this is good, thought Rentaro to himself. He fired again. He fired bullets continuously at the spot where a leg had been blown off and its body was shaking violently off balance. Its hard exoskeleton ripped open, its bodily fluids gushed out, and the .40-caliber bullet drilled a black hole in its mark.

Rentaro fired about ten shots before the gun’s slide release stopped, telling him that it was out of bullets. In the distance, the Gastrea’s body was curled into a ball, and it didn’t even twitch. Approaching it carefully, he saw that one shot had taken one of its venomous fangs off, along with part of its face. But then Rentaro stopped. Oh? he thought. Not only had less than half of his bullets hit, but there was also no trace of any bullets hitting the vital organs. He gulped. He had a bad feeling about this.

In that instant, the spider jumped up and uncovered its venom glands, rushing straight at Rentaro. His body couldn’t react quickly enough to the surprise attack. Rentaro was hit, and his body stiffened.

Just then, with the sound of a fierce impact, the Gastrea’s body was thrown alongside the ground, bouncing once, crashing into the stone wall next to him, destroying it and making the utility pole collapse along with it, blowing up a great pile of dust. For a second, he didn’t understand what had happened. “Oh, was that you, Enju?” he said finally.

Enju stood where the Gastrea had just been a moment ago, a proud look on her face. “Hah! You’re always letting down your guard too soon, Rentaro. I cannot bear to watch you.”

Tadashima’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. He surely couldn’t believe that this slight girl’s kick had sent flying the sixty-kilogram Gastrea that had been there a moment ago.

On the outside, the girl didn’t really look any different from a normal girl—except for one thing. Her eyes, black until just a moment ago, were now shining red. She had crimson eyes, just like the Gastrea.

The shock on Tadashima’s face slowly turned to understanding. “Ah, so this kid’s the Initiator.”

“I’m Rentaro’s partner, Enju Aihara. Remember that, you public servant,” she informed him deliberately, with a triumphant look. Her arrogance was improper for her age, yet at the same time charmingly beautiful.

Rentaro had learned his lesson after the ten-year-old girl pointed out his worthlessness, and reloaded before he approached the Gastrea with his gun out. Stretching its many legs up toward the sky, the spider gave a final spasm, and then was really dead.

Rentaro turned toward Tadashima and bowed his head seriously. “Sorry, Inspector. I let my guard down because it was a Stage One.”

“Hey, wait, weren’t you going on earlier about how regular bullets weren’t effective on Gastrea?” asked Tadashima.

Rentaro turned to face Tadashima. It wasn’t really a secret, so Rentaro didn’t say a word. He just showed his spare magazine—or rather, the bullets in it.

Tadashima’s small eyes widened in understanding. “I see, they’re Varanium bullets.”

Rentaro nodded and took one out, rolling it on his palm to show him. The tip of the golden cartridge—the Varanium-black bullet—reflected the setting sun sharply. “As you know, this is made of the metal Varanium, which inhibits the Gastrea’s ability to heal wounds.”

And it’s because we have this that mankind has barely been able to avoid extinction, he thought inwardly. The Gastrea hated this metal vehemently, and if they were thrown into a room lined with it, they were said to waste away and die.

“There are things you can do to a bullet, too, huh?” asked Tadashima.

“There are civsec officers who stand out more with swords and spears made of this metal, but mine is a bullet. The bullets are special, but the gun is just an ordinary gun,” Rentaro said. “Look.” He held out the XD he used to show him, and Tadashima put his hand on his chin and looked impressed.

Suddenly, Rentaro felt a few light tugs on the sleeve of his uniform and turned to see Enju smiling and vigorously pointing at herself. “I know, I know. You were amazing. Good job. And you saved my life. That’s what you wanted to hear, right?”

“I also have something to say to you.” Enju beckoned him, so Rentaro had no choice but to lean in to her eye level. He figured she just wanted to tell him that his finishing move was too weak, or that he should get stronger, which made him want to sigh.

Then, he found his head being quickly rotated, and like a surprise attack, something soft pressed against his lips.

Wha—?! His body stiffened, and Enju moved away in a flash, hands clasped behind her back bashfully.

She laughed. “Thanks, Rentaro. You still have a long way to go as my partner, but when I let my guard down, you stood in the way of the enemy alone. That was kind of cool.”

“Y-you…”

“What, did you want to do it more? If it’s you, you can do some other things, too.”

Rentaro felt the blush rising in his cheeks. “I… Idiot! Don’t even say that kind of stuff as a joke! What’ll you do if there are people around who misundersta—”

Feeling a sudden chill on the back of his neck, he turned and saw Tadashima pull handcuffs from his hip and sidle over.

“You’ve got some strange tastes, you pig,” said Tadashima.

Rentaro broke out in a cold sweat. Tadashima continued glaring at him.

“Recently, there’s been an idiot playing pranks on girls in the area. His physique is about the same as yours, and his weight is about the same as yours, too… What do you think about that?”

“Y-you’ve gotta be kidding me. It’s a misunderstanding, a false accusation! I plead not guilty!”

“I’ll hear what you have to say at the station.”

“Y-you bastard!”

Rentaro and Tadashima chased after each other around Enju.

“E-Enju, please! Say something!”

Enju puffed her chest out as if to tell everyone to listen to her. “We have a deep relationship that cannot be summed up in one word.”

Tadashima cocked his revolver. What? Was he going to be shot dead?

“She’s a freeloader!” said Rentaro.

“He’s always so amazing at night that I can’t sleep,” said Enju.

“I toss and turn in my sleep!”

“Our futures are sworn to each other.”

“No, they’re not!”

Tadashima looked back and forth from Rentaro to Enju, comparing them. Finally, he put the handcuffs away. “Man, I was gonna put a pair of shiny bracelets on you, too.”

“P-please stop, Inspector. Your joke’s going too far.”

Rentaro drew a deep breath as his gaze dropped to Enju’s back. The skin on her back was peeled off, and it was completely red. It must have happened when she took the blow from that thing’s body earlier and scraped her back against the ground.

“Does it hurt, Enju?” he asked.

The girl snorted with triumphant eyes and looked at him unwaveringly. “I’m fine. It’ll heal soon. I’m more angry about my clothes being ruined. It even broke one of the straps of my camisole.”

As if to back up the girl’s words, what she said came to pass. The painful-looking scratches that covered her back got smaller as they all watched. Eventually, the wounds healed as if nothing had happened, and all that was left was the beautiful, smooth skin of a young girl, along with her ripped clothes.

Looking at Tadashima’s gaping mouth from the corner of his eye, Rentaro thought, That’s the normal reaction.

An ordinary human would first get a scab over the wound, and then the wound would slowly heal over time under that. The fact that she skipped that process when her wound healed emphasized the fact that she was no ordinary human.

Superhuman powers of healing. That was one of the benefits they had as Initiators—girls who could control the Gastrea virus under certain conditions. The extraordinary muscular strength and agility they possessed also fell into that category. And when she was not using her powers, like now, her eyes were always black.

Rentaro was a Promoter, someone who supported the Initiators, and he had the responsibility of directing her onto the right path. “Oh yeah, Enju. You talked to the victim before he experienced shape collapse, right? Did he say anything?”

“Yes, he said to say ‘hi’ to his wife and daughter.”

“I see…” Rentaro looked at his watch, straightened his back, and gave Tadashima a salute. “On April 28, 2031, at 1630 hours, Initiator Enju Aihara and Promoter Rentaro Satomi eliminated the Gastrea.”

“Good work, civil officers.”

Even if it was ritualistic, Rentaro bowed back at the highest-ranking officer on the scene. Exchanging glances with Tadashima, they both let smiles escape.

At that point, an innocent voice that didn’t understand what it meant to read the situation broke the mood.

“Hey, more importantly, are you going to make it back in time for the sale?”

“Huh…? Oh!” Rentaro hurriedly pulled out the day’s insert flyer from his pocket. The blood drained from his face.

“Oh, you’re going already?” asked Tadashima.

“Yeah, if you’ve got more work, let me know.”

Tadashima seemed to be mumbling something for some reason. “Well, you know, that…when you, uh, helped me earlier… Oh, never mind. Anyway, what’s the important business you’re rushing off to?”

“Bean sprouts are six yen a bag!”

Watching the young man’s shadow as he ran away, followed by the playful smaller shadow following him like a puppy, Shigetoku Tadashima grumbled. “Bean sprouts…?”

He had thought about thanking him for protecting him earlier, but it seemed silly now.

“You made it out in one piece, Chief?”

Turning around, he saw his subordinates who had split up to search for the Gastrea start arriving late to the scene.

“They looked like new faces. Do you think we can use them?”

“Who knows. Speaking of which, I forgot to ask for their IP Rank.” Tadashima pulled out a cigarette from his chest pocket almost unconsciously and lit it. Seeing that, his younger subordinates gazed at the cigarette without a word.

“You gonna work with the cigarette in your mouth?” one said.

“Don’t be so stuffy. I almost died just now.” Ignoring his subordinate’s knit eyebrows, he took a deep puff into his lungs and blew it out. It had been clear all day, so even the Monoliths standing far in the distance could be seen in one glance. The enormous rectangular walls standing 1.618 kilometers high and one kilometer wide dotted the scene like steel towers at regular intervals. Even though they seemed out of place in the natural landscape, there was also a feeling of reverence for them for some reason.

Within the Monolith barrier that completely surrounded a portion of the Kanto Plain was one of the last paradises left for mankind. What looked like a forest of black chrome stone blocks were actually slabs of metal made of Varanium. They were the same as what surrounded the Kanto Plain, extending into Old Tokyo, Old Kanagawa, Old Chiba, and Old Saitama.

Gastrea hated Varanium. With the special magnetic field given off by Varanium acting as a natural barrier, Tokyo Area was able to avoid large-scale Gastrea attacks. To put it another way, outside of the five remaining areas in Japan including Tokyo, the rest of the land was teeming with nonhuman monsters and nonhuman monsters that used to be human. If a mere human were to take one step outside of the Monolith, he would either be devoured in an instant or end up as one of them.

And this wasn’t just happening in Japan.

Before Tadashima knew it, forensics and other police had gathered, gathering evidence and putting up caution tape that said KEEP OUT.

Ten years ago, these Gastrea began to appear around the world, and with their infectious capacity, their destruction of humanity accelerated with incredible momentum. One infected person became two, two became four, four became eight… When humanity finally began to worry about the multiplying Gastrea, it was already too late. There was nothing they could do.

All the countries that suffered damage during the large-scale war used the Monoliths, which were barely good enough for practical use, to build barriers. Now, ten years later, they continued to desperately barricade themselves with them.

Humanity lost the Great Gastrea World War.

The cigarette smoke that rose into the air soon dispersed in the setting sun.

In those ten years, Japan had healed the wounds of its defeat and finally gotten its cultural compass back to the levels of the early 2020s.

Tadashima crushed the shortened cigarette butt with his foot and looked out of the corner of his eye at his subordinate, who was moving briskly to the scene.

Occasionally, to prevent a Pandemic, they would have to hunt an early-stage Gastrea that had wandered in. At first, that was the job of the police and the riot squads under their command, or the self-defense force, but now, civsec had a firm hold on a large share of the fighting jobs. The police were left to deal with the aftermath.

Feeling the thick spring air on his skin, Tadashima looked at the two disappearing backs with uncharacteristic sentimentality. Initiator and Promoter. Fighters who came in pairs. They used the power mastered by their bodies to fight the Gastrea.

They were mankind’s last hope.