Black Bullet - Volume 3 - Chapter 1.7

7

“Rentaro, is this good?” With a hammer in one hand, Enju leaned over and waved at him, all smiles.

“A little deeper, please,” said Rentaro.

“Got it!” With dangerous enthusiasm, Enju hammered the pegs that fixed the four corners of the structure they were building.

As Rentaro watched Enju nervously, he took two poles, put them through canvas sleeves, and crossed them. Once Enju saw he was ready, their eyes met, and they pulled it up together with a shout.

There was a loud flap, and then the two-person tent was standing over the thin undergrowth.

“Oh, it’s up, it’s up! That’s brilliant, Rentaro!” Enju hopped around, making her pigtails bounce.

Rentaro looked at the sun shining down on them from the middle of the sky and wiped the sweat on his brow, then shifted his gaze to the tent with a grim expression on his face. The tent they had just put up was not much to look at, with visible stains and traces of repairs (and even though it was already the year 2031, it was still made of heavy canvas).

Looking around them, he saw several eight-meter-square squad tents and the tent for the frontline headquarters in the distance, made of the newest GORE-TEX. They were probably all government-issued goods from the self-defense force. Compared to that, their tent was taken from the Satomi family closet, and they were just lucky that it hadn’t gotten moldy.

Rentaro lifted his face and looked at the Monolith that filled his vision.

Tokyo Area, District 40. Ten kilometers before Monolith 32. That was where the frontline headquarters for the civil officer troops had been placed.

Rentaro sighed. The reason they had not received government equipment was simple. It was solely because their civil officer squad was not fully formed yet. The civil officer registration area he had gone to in the morning was an open tent like those used for sports festivals and funerals. Rentaro and the others had headed over in high spirits, ready to join the troop and fight some Gastrea, but they were met with the curt, “Rejected.”

Apparently, the smallest unit used in civil officer troop tactical strategy was a squad—in other words, because they would move as adjuvants, those who did not form an adjuvant group were not allowed to participate.

The smallest possible adjuvant was three pairs, or six people. In other words, even with the Katagiri siblings, not only did Rentaro still need at least one more pair before he would be recognized as an adjuvant, but he was also being completely left out of the tactical arrangements.

Tina probably couldn’t participate in combat since she was a criminal who had received a heavy penalty from the government. And it was unfair to expect Kisara to provide much combat power since she had chronic kidney disease.

After the Seitenshi approached him directly to take this job, he couldn’t face her with, “I couldn’t find enough members.” His own feelings on edge from impatience, he rocked back and forth slightly with irritation. He needed to get another pair to join them so he could register as soon as possible.

Rentaro turned back to Enju. “Enju, do you want to put the things we brought into the tent and go toward the middle of the camp?”

“Recruiting?” Seeing Enju’s eyes glitter, Rentaro grimaced.

“It’s not as fun as you think it is, you know.”

“Then, I will make it amusing!”

I give up. He was going to have to take drastic measures.

Enju trotted ahead, beckoning him forward to the tune of “Rentaro, hurry!”

Rentaro shook his head and pointed his feet toward the frontline headquarters. District 40, where they were camped, was adjacent to District 39, Enju’s hometown. It was no exception to the rule of the Outer Districts in that it was run-down. However, once the military got there, it looked completely different.

As he neared the camp’s nexus, the first thing he noticed was the smell of fermented alcohol. Under the open tents that were put up everywhere, even though the sun was still high, an ill-bred Promoter was downing drink and grumbling.

Next came the smell of gunpowder smoke. Among the rough voices, there was the occasional ear-splitting sound of gunfire. A salesman was selling Varanium weapons, giving his pitch about how powerful his stock was as he let civil officers test them.

There were other food and drink stalls, performers, moneylenders, and a variety of other rough stores that were more than street stalls but less than festival stands all in a row, and in the middle, when they got to the main street, it was so crowded that it was hard to even pass through. Rentaro felt like he would get drunk on all the humanity.

Rentaro held Enju’s hand so they wouldn’t get separated and quickly escaped to a side street pulling her along. He found a stump between a gun shop and a fortune-teller and sat down, loosened his necktie, and gazed up at the sky. The sun continued to shine high in the middle of the blue, and there was the continuous sound of cicadas chirping. It made him feel like he was being steamed alive in his completely black uniform. “Damn it, there are so many people.”

“I like this festival-like atmosphere,” commented Enju.

“Festival? Do you realize that the fate of Tokyo Area is at stake?”

Just then, there was the sound of a female voice snickering beside them. Next to them was a fortune-teller wearing a robe that looked far too hot for this weather, with various gold and silver accessories on her arms. She wore clothes that looked like the chador worn by women from Islamic countries, and her mouth was covered with a cloth. Before her, a crystal ball was laid out under the simple canopy of the tent.

“Oh, excuse me. Your Initiator is very energetic, isn’t she?” It was a clear, high voice. She sounded very young.

Rentaro looked toward the people coming and going on the street, and after going back and forth about it in his head, he asked the fortune-teller a question that had been lurking in the back of his mind. “Hey. How can you all be so calm? You never thought to run away or anything?”

A lot had happened last night. First of all, the spokesman from the Seitenshi’s office had officially announced the scenario about the collapse of Monolith 32. The reactions were pretty much what they had expected.

The extradeep underground shelters the Seitenshi had prepared could only hold thirty percent of the citizens of Tokyo Area, and those people were chosen randomly by computer and contacted that day.

The problem was the remaining seventy percent of the population. They vented their uneasiness and confusion on the Seitenshi, and when they found out that Cursed Children were included in that thirty percent, many people strongly opposed it. Demonstrations and rallies were quickly organized, and there was a strong group that took the position that there was something wrong with the selection process and demanded a reselection. Among them, there were even bloody organizations formed that wanted to kill the Cursed Children by brute force and steal their winning spots.

To Rentaro, these groups were extremely dangerous. Naturally, this was because they would attack the Cursed Children, but once they realized that they did not have enough spots for all their members, it was also possible that they could quickly change into an organization that attacked the general public.

Those with a little more foresight had bought out the plane tickets to other areas and were running away. Tickets to Osaka and Sendai Areas were sold out within minutes after the government press conference, and a single ticket had jumped up in price and was currently selling for as much as someone’s life savings in auctions and on the black market. The Seitenshi’s office encouraged evacuation to other areas, but there was an overwhelming shortage of spots.

All of Tokyo Area was wrapped in panic. If things got out of control, and it got past the level that could be taken care of by the police and vigilante groups, then it was possible it would turn into a state of anarchy.

Of course, the criticism was focused on the Seitenshi. It started with hackneyed criticisms like that she was covering things up or that she was incompetent, and continued with calling her a whore or gossiping about her femininity.

Since she would probably receive the same criticism once Aldebaran appeared and the truth was announced, as someone who had been studying to be a politician in the Tendo family, Rentaro thought the Seitenshi’s response was correct. Right after announcing the worst-case scenario for when the Monolith collapsed, her press office announced a best-case scenario at the same time that reversed it.

They announced that they were manufacturing a replacement Monolith and attempting to construct a Monolith on-site. The Seitenshi’s office promised that they would finish preparing the replacement Monolith three days after the collapse of Monolith 32, and they provided detailed paperwork to prove it. And so, it was announced that for three days after the collapse of the Monolith, Tokyo Area would be protected by the mighty self-defense force that had proved itself time and time again during the Second Kanto Battle, and the rear guard would be made of the civil officer troops.

This announcement was somewhat effective, and it was able to absorb some of the shock received by Tokyo Area. The draft of the speech had been polished carefully, and as usual, the Seitenshi’s eye contact and breath placement were perfect—she had to have practiced it many times. She had done a good job preparing so much in only a few days.

The media criticism of the Seitenshi showed no signs of slowing, as usual, but the Seitenshi was completely indifferent to her own pain, so even if she were spit on, she would stand firm and smile and pay no heed. The problem was, she had a tendency to be too sensitive to the pain of others.

“Satomi, I cannot bear to have more seeds of sadness sown in this world…” During the previous incident involving the assassination attempt on her, she had said this to him plaintively. There was no way Rentaro could think that that was just a random remark she made. If she were a real saint whose heart was pained more by the hurt of others than her own, then there was no way she would tolerate the plan failing. Because if they failed, then the lives of all the residents of Tokyo Area who could not run away in time would be lost.

But apparently, the other countries had decided that the plan proposed by Tokyo Area was hopeless. At the Tokyo Area stock market, there was an avalanche of panicked selling that started at the morning trading session and continued until the close of the afternoon session, and it was estimated that taking into consideration the possibility of Tokyo Area disappearing from the map, a limit down was unavoidable for all stocks in the exchange. After the Great War, this actualized as Gastrea Risk, which further complicated the monetary economy.

Currently, there were few factors that could be looked at optimistically. Yet even so, the day after the Seitenshi’s announcement, gun dealers and liquor stores, and even the fortune-teller in front of him weren’t running away, but had come to the Outer District and were solemnly doing business. Rentaro couldn’t understand it.

The fortune-teller narrowed her eyes and smiled. “It’s simple. I’m betting that you civil officers will win.”

Rentaro was astonished and stood with his mouth gaping.

The fortune-teller continued. “That’s why I came here to do fortune-telling: So I could lift the spirits of the civil officers. Usually, there are bad fortunes mixed in, too, but starting from today, I’ve made it so that only good fortunes will come out. I’m sure the gods will agree that it’s fine to have days like this occasionally. Oh, and don’t tell anyone about this,” she chuckled.

Rentaro and Enju looked at each other. Enju smiled, and before he knew it, Rentaro also found himself smiling. “Then, please tell our fortune.”

“Sure, no problem.” So saying, she faced the crystal ball and did some quick fortune-telling movements. In no time she was looking at them. “Now, young man in the black, you two are looking for people to join your adjuvant, right?”

Rentaro raised an eyebrow. “How did you know?”

“How, I wonder?”

Rentaro realized that the fortune-teller must have been watching them since before Rentaro started talking to her.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you two will meet wonderful companions. Please continue forward without giving up.”

“Thanks. It makes me feel better to hear that from someone else.”

The fortune-teller put her hand to her mouth and smiled. “No problem. You’re welcome.”

“My turn, my turn, my turn, my turn!” Enju raised her hand and drew closer to the fortune-teller. “I wish for you to tell my fortune, as well!”

“Miss, what would you like me to look at?”

Enju put her hands on her hips and stuck out her chest, exhaling through her nose. “My breasts. I wish to be bigger than Kisara. If possible, I’d like a bust of about a hundred and twenty centimeters.”

“A hundred…and twenty…?” At those words that showed no fear of the gods, even the fortune-teller was speechless, and after looking at Enju’s flat chest, the fortune-teller looked at Rentaro, perplexed.

Rentaro shook his head quickly. Don’t look at me…

“Well… Don’t dreams come true if you believe?” The fortune-teller took care of it with a vague general statement. And then, without a pause, she stood up, saying, “Oh, right! I just remembered something I have to do,” and hastily folded up her store and ran away.

Enju’s eyes sparkled as she looked at Rentaro. “Rentaro, did you hear that? I will be a hundred and twenty centimeters, she said! After I’m a hundred and twenty centimeters, I’ll let you feel them every day!”

“Um…well… I’ll wait without getting my hopes up. Look, more important, we have to make an adjuvant! An adjuvant!” Forcefully changing the subject, Rentaro patted the side of the stump he was sitting on. Enju sat down quietly and looked at the large street in front of them, uncharacteristically serious.

Rentaro also slapped his cheeks with both hands to get back his fighting spirit and evaluated the civil officer Initiators and Promoters coming and going on the street. The metallic sound of swords and shields hitting armor mixed with a cloud of dust being kicked up by the comings and goings of the crowd, leaving their throats dry and scratchy.

The civil officers were wearing many different kinds of outfits, from battle dress uniforms to tactical vests in military style with interlocking attachment MOLLE; to western-style armor, plate mail, helmets, gauntlets, and armored jackets. There were also many different kinds of weapons, from MINIMI machine guns to Galil assault rifles and Magnum revolvers. He also saw halberds, war hammers, shamshirs, and the great claymore swords that Scotland was so proud of. It was as if they had gotten lost in the waiting room of the ancient Roman Colosseum.

“It feels like we’re in the waiting room of the world’s greatest martial arts tournament, huh?” Sitting next to him swinging her legs, Enju echoed his thoughts suddenly.

What they all had in common was that their weapons were made of Varanium, so their sword blades and striking edges were all black. Individuals who had been taken over by the Gastrea virus had a wide variety of abilities, so there were many different ways to deal with them. Another way to put it would be to say that there were as many different ways for civil officers to fight as there were types of Gastrea.

“Are all of them people we can get to join us?” Enju asked.

“No, most of them are probably already part of another party,” Rentaro lamented. “But there are people who aren’t, too. You could say that this is where the guys who missed being part of an adjuvant are putting up their hopes at getting one last chance.”

“About how many more people do you wish to have join us, Rentaro? Is having one more pair enough?”

Rentaro fixed his gaze on the road in front of him. Just then, a covered Humvee made its way slowly down the wide street. “About that, Enju… I’d like to have five pairs with a total of ten people, including us.”

“You want that many?”

“Yeah, there are a few reasons for that. I think that’s just the right number if we compromise between the limit of how many people I can lead and the number of people we need to minimize blind spots in the party.”

“Then, we must work hard to bring in many new companions, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m counting on you, partner.”

After a while, Enju pulled on the edge of his clothes and pointed out a pair. “Rentaro, how about them?”

Looking in the direction Enju was pointing, Rentaro saw a heavily armed civil officer pair. The Initiator’s weapon was a long spear, and the Promoter was carrying a rifle made by the Knight’s Armament Company. But what Rentaro focused on was their defensive armament, the body armor that covered them. “No, those guys are no good.”

Enju looked confused. “Why not?”

“Look at their bodies. They have armor close around their necks, head, and even their elbows and knees. Amateurs who don’t want to die have the tendency to focus on defense. But when fighting Gastrea, that can be fatal. You understand, don’t you, Enju?”

Enju scowled uncharacteristically and crossed her arms. “Certainly for us Initiators, rather than increasing our defense, it would be more logical to lighten the load on our bodies to make it easier to run away with our speed.”

“Right, you get a hundred percent for that answer. That’s exactly it. You could say the same thing for Promoters. Anyway, since Gastrea are bigger and stronger, one big hit from them would mean the end for a human, so in actuality, the more lightly equipped guys have a higher chance of survival.”

“I see. Then, those who are equipped more lightly are stronger? Understood. Then, next, we should find someone like that to join us, right?” There was hardly a pause before Enju yelled, “Found someone!” and restlessly ran toward a new pair.

One look at the Promoter, and Rentaro almost jumped in surprise. He was a head taller than Rentaro himself, and he wasn’t just lightly equipped—he was half-naked, wearing only underpants. On top of that, his face was covered with a mask. On his shoulder he had a spiked club like those carried by demons in folktales, and he was extremely muscular. Rentaro wondered if there was a reason why he looked like the weapons dealer in Dragon Quest.

He already had the fiercely individualistic Katagiri siblings on his team. If he added a beast like that to his team, there was no doubt the direction his adjuvant would take. He definitely wanted to keep that from happening. Rentaro watched the progression of events nervously, and after some heated discussion, the Promoter shooed her away with his hand.

Enju came back with her shoulders slumped and pigtails drooping. “They refused…”

“R-really.” Rentaro breathed a sigh of relief where she couldn’t hear.

After that, they spent a few hours talking to civil officers who appeared strong, but as he expected, they did not get a favorable result. Most people were already part of an adjuvant, and the civil officers who weren’t were not satisfied with Rentaro’s proposed payment or were too prideful to follow the orders of a man who was younger than them, and other similar reasons.

Even Enju, who proudly worked hard to invite people at first, lost her smile after being refused three times, looked like she was about to cry after being refused seven times, and looked pitiful and dejected after being refused ten times.

The sun had gotten low, and Rentaro’s and Enju’s shadows became darker and longer. But just as Rentaro thought they should stop for the day, things took an abrupt turn. A scream roared from afar, and the people coming and going stopped in their tracks. Then, commotion spread through the crowd like fire.

Rentaro pricked up his ears to see if he could hear what was going on and overheard stuff like, “There’s a fight between civil officers!”

“One of the pairs charged at the other without knowing the difference in their abilities.”

“That was stupid.”

He looked Enju in the eye and nodded. Jogging toward the scream, he soon figured out where a crowd had gathered and pushed his way through to the middle with simple words of apology. When he emerged in the middle of the donut of people and his vision opened up, he was suddenly met with something far beyond what he could have ever imagined in front of him. Rentaro involuntarily put a hand over his mouth. “Enju, don’t come over here!”

But it was too late. Next to him, Enju was frozen with both eyes open wide.

Damn it. Rentaro leaned in all too quickly to check if the pair was breathing and find a pulse. Using his thumb and forefinger, he even forced their eyelids open to check their pupils.

Rentaro closed his eyes. Finally, he looked at Enju and shook his head. “It’s no use, they’re dead.”

As Rentaro stood and looked over the scene of the murder again, there was no way he could not be horrified. There was blood splattered everywhere. He could even see blood on the roof of a tent ten meters away.

The dead piled on top of each other were an Initiator and a Promoter. Rentaro and Enju had both seen the two victims before.

“Rentaro, are not these people…?” Enju started.

“Yeah, there’s no doubt,” said Rentaro. “They’re the heavily armored pair you were going to talk to first, Enju.” They seemed unused to fighting, but because they were wearing equipment that emphasized defense, Rentaro had never thought that they would be killed in a scuffle with other civil officers. But—

The Promoter’s face was frozen in an expression more fearful than Rentaro could have imagined, and his eyes were wide open. The iron-filled stink of blood seemed to get stronger as it followed his nostrils around, and he had to shoo away the swarms of black flies that came at them.

Rentaro swallowed his feeling of not wanting to touch the dead body again and bent over to investigate once more. The Promoter’s ceramic plate armor—which looked to be the thickness of Type IIIA++ based on the National Institute of Justice (NIJ) standards for the ballistic resistance of body armor—was cut clean in two, and he had a long horizontal slash across his stomach. The Initiator lost her life from a single diagonal slash that started near her neck.

What sword was it that created this nightmare? Rentaro stood and looked around at his surroundings. “Is there anyone who saw what happened?”

“C-could you be Rentaro Satomi?” A small, skinny man stepped forward, trembling with fear.

Rentaro didn’t respond right away. “What if I am?”

“Uh… Y-you… Never mind, it was my mistake. Forget about it.”

“Huh? What do you want?”

“I said, forget about it!” the man said, sounding irritated, and then he turned and left before Rentaro could stop him.

Rentaro felt more and more like he didn’t know what was going on. What was with that reaction? Why was his name important?

“Heeeey, there’s a fight over here, too!” a loud voice yelled suddenly, and all the civil officers gathered around Rentaro turned in that direction. The civil officers moved forward as one.

“Rentaro!” Enju shouted.

“Yeah, let’s go, too. It could be the guy who did this.” Rentaro asked a nearby shop owner to take care of the aftermath of the incident and pushed down his impatient feelings as he went over to where the voice was.

There was a crowd gathered at a meadow a little ways away from the market street. The crowd was more spread out than the donut-shaped crowd from earlier, so he didn’t have to push through this time. He made his way easily to a spot where he could see what was transpiring.

The battle had not even begun yet. But seeing two pairs facing off, Rentaro gulped involuntarily.

What’s going on?

Slightly closer to Rentaro was a short and stout giant with a Mohawk. Next to him was an Initiator with old eyes who was accompanying him. The Promoter in the pair farther away from him was tall and slender, wearing a long coat with a visor above his eyes. The Initiator next to him was wearing a skirt with a long jacket and a pointed black hat with a wide brim. She seemed to be aware of the eyes on her and cowered, moving restlessly.

Looking at the red-faced man with the Mohawk, Rentaro frowned. It looked like there was alcohol in him. “Hey, you beanpole. Do you know who I am? I’ve robbed and murdered twelve people. I’ve been sentenced to death in three different countries. I’m the wanted man, Brick Nigel,” the man with the Mohawk shouted in a vulgar, thick voice and waved his Abakan assault rifle around.

Facing him, the man with the visor and coat shook his head calmly. “It’s not like I said you were weak. I’m sure you’re strong.”

“Then, why won’t you drink my liquor?!”

“I’m under no obligation to drink with you.”

Angrily, the Mohawk’s veins popped. He jerked his chin at the Initiator by his side, and the Initiator wordlessly twisted her body as she raised a spear. It was a throwing javelin.

Something tugged on Rentaro’s sleeve. It was Enju, looking uneasy. “Why has no one noticed, Rentaro?”

Rentaro realized what she was trying to say and looked at her in wonder. “You’ve noticed?”

“Of course I have. There is too big a difference in skill in this fight!”

In front of him, in the midst of a high tide of nervousness and wild enthusiasm, the man with the visor and coat narrowed his eyes. “Give it up. There is no glory or pride to be had in this fight. It’ll be boring whether you win or lose.”

But these words only served to fan Mohawk’s flames of wrath. “Shuuuuuuuttttt uuuuuppppp! Heeeeeyyyyy!” He sighted the Abakan and set it to full auto, ready to gouge holes in the grass and turn the other pair into Swiss cheese.

But just before he could, his two opponents disappeared.

Mohawk looked up. Rentaro followed his gaze and was taken aback. The Initiator had lent the Promoter a shoulder, and the two were flying high in the sky. Just then, the Initiator cut her partner loose, and the man in the coat fell ten meters in front of the enemy girl.

Rentaro was astonished. The Promoter was going to face off against the Initiator? No way. “Look—”

—out! Before he could finish, a number of things happened.

The girl with the javelin saw her chance and started to run up, allowing her body to turn with centrifugal force as she readied her throw. But before the thrust, her cells expanded with a popping sound. By the time Rentaro realized that she was an Initiator with specialized muscle strength, it was too late. She took one last step, breaking the ground apart and throwing her javelin at great speed.

The javelin chasing the speed of sound spiraled with a roaring wind, heading straight for its target to turn the man in the coat into smithereens. There was no reason to doubt that, so when the man did the unthinkable and stretched an arm out in front of him to parry, Rentaro’s eyes widened.

Immediately afterward, the sound of an explosion rang out, and the tip of the javelin clashed with the man’s arm. There, Rentaro saw something he found hard to believe: The javelin that had been going as fast as a cannonball changed its course slightly, and the next instant, it flew in a completely different direction. It had been deflected successfully.

Rentaro wondered how the girl felt when she saw that, but he lost his chance to ask her. Between the girl who fell forward after throwing the javelin and the man in the coat who used as little movement as possible to deflect it, there was way too big a difference in how long their moves put them out of commission.

In no time, the man had closed in on the girl, the hem of his long coat fluttering in the air as he filled the girl’s line of sight. The next instant, there was a heavy thud as he slammed the heel of his hand into her chin.

The threatening regenerative abilities of Initiators had just two weak points. This meant that of the two, the heart and the brain, he had shaken up the brain, giving her a concussion in the blink of an eye—and making her pass out.

There was no time to sigh in admiration of his amazing skill, though. The other fight was also nearing its end. The girl in the hat moved to draw the gunfire of Mohawk, who was firing blindly as he swung his rifle back and forth. The instant the gun ran out of bullets, the girl kicked off the ground and engaged with the man. Instantly, the man’s rifle was cut to pieces and dropped to the ground. Mohawk was dumbfounded and fell to his knees, looking up with froth spewing from his mouth as he too passed out.

It was so spellbinding that for a second the entire place was silent. The Initiator looked shyly at the ground, and as she gave an extremely polite bow to the audience, cheers exploded.

It was like a fight between a child and an adult. In contrast to the Mohawk man and his partner, who had been going for the man in the coat as a kill from the start, the man in the coat and his Initiator aimed for the much more difficult result of putting their opponents out of commission, and on top of that, they succeeded. In addition, the girl in the hat was obviously an Initiator of the same type as Enju with specialized speed.

“Enju, that girl in the hat. What did she do when she defeated the Mohawk?” It had happened too fast for Rentaro to catch with his kinetic vision.

“It was probably her nails,” said Enju.

“Nails?”

“Yes. Her nails grew extremely long in an instant and then shrunk again.”

Which also narrowed down which Gastrea factor she had. Rentaro’s eyes were both staring at the man receiving applause from the middle of the circle. There was no doubt about what he was seeing anymore.

Rentaro walked into the middle of the ring and called out, “Hey!” to the team’s back. When the man turned and saw who it was, his expression turned grim. He walked over to Rentaro silently.

“R-Rentaro!” Enju’s panicked voice made a commotion behind him, but he didn’t halt his advance.

The instant they were close enough for their fists to touch, Rentaro’s right hand and the man in the coat’s right arm were brought up at the same time. The people around them expected tragedy and gulped, but the next instant, Rentaro and the man’s arms locked in joy at their reunion.

“Huh?” Enju and the Initiator in the hat both lifted their voices at the same.

Rentaro looked over his fellow Promoter. There was no strength in the man’s eyes, and it seemed like he was going to start laughing awkwardly. “The move that made the Initiator with the throwing javelin faint was Sanda Tama Kirin, wasn’t it? You haven’t gotten weaker at all, have you, Shoma, bro?”

“It’s been too long, Satomi. I’ve heard rumors about what you’ve been doing. Have you been working hard?” This man had never been one to show his emotions, but even his lips relaxed slightly at this.

Enju, who had come up alongside Rentaro, had her mouth gaping open and her eyes open wide.

Rentaro put his arm around the man’s shoulders and looked at Enju. “Let me introduce you, Enju. This is the eighth dan of the Tendo Martial Arts, Shoma Nagisawa. He’s my senior in the Tendo Style.”