Although this was a world dominated by gods, the greatest active force and influencing factor within it had always been the insignificant human race.
Likewise, the greatest variable was also human.
In this world, there were heroes willing to sacrifice themselves for its sake without hesitation. At the same time, there were those who would sell their ethics and conscience for their own benefit.
Both were aspects of human nature.
—Therefore, justice will never vanish, and evil will never die.
But because the objective difficulty between the two is as vast as heaven and earth, those who persist in justice are few, while the wicked are often able to run rampant.
And in Los Angeles, this great melting pot that gathers peoples from all over the world, the harsh environment only magnifies that aspect of humanity even further.
This is a demonic metropolis where whirlpools of crime converge, a city where decadence and prosperity coexist and compete. Within this chaotic urban sprawl dwell those who have strayed from the order of the world.
Here, there are no longer any true natives. In their place are immigrants from across the globe and descendants of past colonizers.
As a result, they feel an instinctive indifference toward this land, driven only by the desire to take from it, rather than to treat it as a mother to be protected and repaid.
Thus emerged a great number of individuals who sold their ethics and conscience to devils in exchange for extraordinary magical power—sorcerers of dark arts.
The reason they chose Los Angeles as their base was because they were searching for the Angel's Remains, said to have been buried here centuries ago—a holy relic capable of granting immense magical power to its inheritor.
Though the truth of the matter remained uncertain, it was an indisputable fact that there were more dark sorcerers here than in other major cities.
Their natural enemy appeared in the latter half of the 1990s.
Like something that emerged alongside the rise of superhero films, he arrived out of nowhere.
He possessed magical power that no sorcerer could match. He could transform into a non-human form, race through the darkness, wield spells, become an invincible giant, fire demonic bullets, and remain an undefeated man.
In the beginning, whenever asked his name, he would answer with something like John Smith or John Doe—names so obviously fake that anyone could tell he had made them up on the spot.
But the citizens who knew his legend and had glimpsed his shadow bestowed upon him the grand title of Pluto.
Thus, John Pluto Smith was born.
...
"I had only occasionally heard Doni mention this man before. I never imagined there would truly be a Godslayer who regarded himself as a guardian."
Several hours had passed since they had seen that explosion on television.
Erica had already reported the matter to the History Compilation Committee. However, since the incident did not fall within Japanese jurisdiction, and the United States had released no related news reports nor any request for assistance, there was no reason for them to interfere.
Just as Japan habitually attributed such disasters to earthquakes, the United States held a press conference and blamed the enormous waves triggered by the explosion on a typhoon.
As for the hero and the giant serpent Erica and the others had witnessed earlier, it seemed that, like their predecessors, they had become nothing more than bones buried beneath the prosperity of this nation.
"Is that truly all they said? They will neither punish evil nor uphold justice—merely to continue existing and preserve their status, they can ignore everything that just happened?"
Filled with a strong sense of justice, Liliana was the first to be unable to remain seated. Rare anger appeared on the silver-haired girl's face. Not only did this remind her of the atrocities committed four years ago by Marquis Voban when he summoned a Heretic God, but at this very moment she profoundly felt what it meant to be the tragedy of a hero.
Sacrifice itself was not the most tragic thing. Having the value of that sacrifice completely denied and ignored—that was the tragedy of a hero.
Touma Amakasu coughed awkwardly at the side. To be honest, the History Compilation Committee had not done such things any less. Although it was often a reluctant expedient measure, they knew very well that such behavior was no different from compromise.
This world was realistic. Without sufficient power, no one could clearly distinguish the boundary between courage and foolishness.
Sayanomiya Kaoru's resolve was evidently stronger, perhaps because she herself was one of the Hime-Miko.
"Please calm down, Miss Liliana. Strictly speaking, this is an internal affair of the United States. Officially, we can only provide limited humanitarian assistance. Moreover, we cannot reveal to the American authorities that we know the truth of this incident. Otherwise, they will question how we obtained such intelligence."
Her reasoning was sound. Yet from Liliana's expression, Kaoru could tell that she was still unable to let go of what had happened.
Thus, she withdrew a handwritten document from the files she carried and handed it to Erica, who had remained silent.
"Lady Erica, although we cannot intervene officially, if you choose to act according to your own will, we as your subordinates have no authority to question it."
Taking the document and removing a stack of papers from within, Erica scanned them briefly before lifting her head in puzzlement.
"Personnel information on SSI? What does this have to do with the incident?"
"Although there is no direct evidence linking SSI to that Pluto, we have learned through certain channels that a man named Jack Milupan within their ranks maintains close ties with that mysterious hero. If we establish contact with him, we may gain a deeper understanding of the situation."
"I see—?"
Erica accepted the file but did not immediately contact the other party. Instead, she studied Kaoru curiously. "Forgive the rudeness, but this kind of action does not match your previous style."
In the past, the History Compilation Committee had been too preoccupied even with its own affairs to intervene in external matters.
Kaoru's actions just now had clearly exceeded the scope of her duties.
Sayanomiya Kaoru had evidently anticipated the question.
"If this were merely an ordinary diplomatic matter, we would not interfere. However, based on your descriptions, those sorcerers have evidently discovered a method to elevate a human into a god. Though imperfect, it is clearly sufficient to pose a significant threat even to a Godslayer. For the sake of safety, such a method of creating a god must be strangled in its cradle."
So that was the true reason the Japanese authorities were willing to assist.
Godslayers were akin to strategic national weapons—nuclear arms that maintained the balance of magical power in this world. If such weapons fell into the hands of dark sorcerers akin to terrorists and were widely disseminated, even if only two or three succeeded—let alone dozens—the consequences would be unbearable for any nation.
(When Marquis Voban summoned a Heretic God and slew it to obtain Authority, it was akin to a nuclear power upgrading an atomic bomb into a hydrogen bomb. Among Godslayers themselves, however, such acts were not strongly restrained, since everyone did the same.)
"Mm, I understand. I will keep an eye on this matter. And if it concerns a god, I doubt a certain someone would easily let it pass either~"
...
It had been quite some time since she had locked herself in her room to repair the godhood.
The memories she had obtained from the Hidden World indeed contained a great deal of crucial knowledge, but turning those fragmented pieces into a coherent system capable of guiding her actions had still taken considerable time.
Moreover, as the godhood of Athena—one of the great deities—the Gorgon Stone contained far more Authorities and far more complex combinations than an ordinary divine core.
A godhood was not some mechanical device. As a fragment of the Immortal Goddess, it possessed its own self-repairing properties. The reason it had previously been unable to recover lay in the power of Vipralopa, which had damaged the self-repair function embedded within the Gorgon Stone.
For Satsuki, purging the power of Vipralopa was not difficult. The true challenge lay in reactivating the Gorgon Stone's self-repair mechanism.
At first, Satsuki had attempted to search the system's Akashic Records for relevant knowledge. But at the critical moment, the Authority of the Divine Arena interfered once again, leaving her empty-handed. It was precisely because of that failure that she had conceived the idea of venturing into the Hidden World to obtain the knowledge required to repair the godhood.
To magi, the Hidden World was hardly an unfamiliar concept. For Satsuki, learning about it posed no difficulty. After all, she had already seen related documents in the possession of that Sardinian witch.
Ena's incident had begun as an accident—but its conclusion had not been accidental at all. It was precisely the result Satsuki had wanted.
In the end, drawing upon the knowledge she had acquired from the Hidden World, she first cleansed the lingering power of Vipralopa from the Gorgon Stone. Then, using the Authorities of Energy control and Status Infusion, she guided the power within the Stone to begin recompiling the portion responsible for self-repair.
That stage of the work consumed an immense amount of time. It was not until Erica's phone notification chimed for the fourth time today that Satsuki finally paused her task.
"The self-repair function is nearly restored. All that remains is for the Gorgon Stone to operate on its own. The power contained within it will gradually re-emerge."
After a long absence, the system's orb of light once again manifested as the illusory figure of Metis, floating in midair as she gazed at the black obsidian stone engraved with the likeness of the Gorgon in Satsuki's hand.
"What a resilient godhood. An ordinary mythological artifact would have been stripped of its sacred rank the instant it touched the power of Vipralopa. The fact that this Gorgon Stone did not collapse on the spot is truly fortunate."
The system's voice remained as clear and lofty as Athena's. Yet deprived of the Gorgon Stone's support, her form had reverted to Athena's youthful appearance.
"After all, Athena's myths are far too widespread in this world. Modern methods of dissemination have embedded her existence deeply into the hearts of humanity. Her influence has long surpassed that of other gods who were active only during the age of Olympian mythology. Within that pantheon, perhaps only Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon can rival her."
With that, Satsuki flicked her hand, sending the Gorgon Stone back into the body of the system—Metis.
Black divine power burst forth from Metis's body. A magnificent violet-black halo appeared out of thin air. The starless darkness of the underworld poured forth and enveloped her illusory form.
Soon, the winds of death from the underworld coiled around her. Amid those winds, her body gradually matured, and divine power began to surge outward. Within a few breaths, the goddess crowned with laurel and clad in a long gown once more stood before Satsuki.
The only imperfection was that, because the Authorities of the Gorgon Stone had not yet been fully restored, Metis could not currently wield all of her strength.
Only after completing this did Satsuki finally shift her attention to Erica's messages.
Although Erica sent her greetings by text almost every morning, noon, and evening, the four messages today had arrived at noticeably unusual times. Something must have happened.
Picking up her phone, Satsuki checked the notifications.
Aside from unavoidable advertisements and reminders about unpaid bills, several people contacted her frequently besides Erica.
For example, her homeroom teacher would inquire about her recent truancy and whether she was experiencing any academic difficulties. Fortunately, Ichirou Kusunagi had already handled that matter under hypnosis.
Then there was the King of Swords, Salvatore Doni, who would occasionally send her accounts of his travels across various lands, along with discussions on swordsmanship.
Yuri Mariya contacted her from time to time as well, though less frequently. Apart from the important intelligence she could obtain through spiritual sight, there was little intersection between them.
Recently, a new addition had joined the list—Ena Seishuuin, the former Tachi Hime-Miko. Her body seemed to be recovering well. She had begun getting out of bed for rehabilitation, though strenuous movement or the use of curse power remained beyond her.
Her motive for calling was simple enough. Besides expressing gratitude for Satsuki's mercy and life-saving grace, she wished to see her old companion, the Ama-no-Murakumo, even if only through a screen. So Satsuki would occasionally take photographs of the divine sword and send them to her.
Scrolling upward, Satsuki found the latest message.
Sender: Erica Blandelli.
Title: "Another battle has broken out."
The body of the message was blank.
Which meant it was not something that could be explained through text.
That alone piqued Satsuki's interest slightly. After staying indoors for so long, perhaps it was finally time to step outside.
...
Los Angeles, 9:00 a.m.
Above Jack Milupan stretched a cloudless blue sky.
Before him lay the azure ocean of California. In summer, the crowds who came here for sea bathing were so numerous that even the beaches of Venice would seem quiet by comparison.
Yet Jack's expression was exceedingly gloomy.
Sorcerous Sacrilege Investigation—SSI's Los Angeles branch. A government agency established to investigate matters related to magic and the supernatural, and to conceal the relevant information from the public. This was Jack's workplace.
It had been nearly a week since John Pluto Smith had died here.
Under the witness of Jack and hundreds of citizens, he had been killed.
Rain was already rare in California. Today, too, was brilliantly clear.
But Jack had no mood to take his beloved car out for a drive beneath the sunny sky. After parking at the lot of Samantha University, he headed toward the Faculty of Humanities, walking straight to the Department of Foreign Literature.
He entered a research building, made his way to a private office, and stepped inside. Waiting there was a Black professor.
"Jack, good to see you. Unfortunately, the situation still isn't looking optimistic."
"You mean Angela's resurrection ritual will take place within the next few days?"
At the confirming question, John Best nodded.
A renowned scholar in the field of fantasy literature, the elderly Black man was also a rare benevolent magus—and John Pluto Smith's collaborator.
Like the butler of a superhero, or the one who provided intelligence and equipment, this old man had assisted the hero for ten years. From the knee down, his right leg was encased in plaster.
"That's right. The positions of the moon and stars, the flow of the ley lines... everything is at its most favorable. The Fly King will not miss this opportunity."
Professor Best let out a deep sigh.
Benevolent magi like him were exceedingly rare in North America.
The reason lay in numerous dark chapters of history: the rampant witch hunts during the British colonial era, the suppression carried out by newly arrived Protestant clergy from Europe, the conflicts and negotiations with indigenous spirit faiths... and countless other events buried in shadow.
"After that, the Fly King's activities never slowed. That in itself strikes me as strange. I never expected they were planning something like this. Honestly, how could things come to this?"
Over the past week, the Fly King had continued its operations without pause.
They were a cult dominated by twisted faith and lacking rationality. Without a powerful leader, it would not have been surprising for the organization to collapse entirely.
Yet now, the dark sorcerers were employing appeasement and even brainwashing tactics against the upper echelons of the Los Angeles Police Department and SSI. With their natural enemy dead, bold operations that had once been difficult to execute were emerging one after another. The situation had devolved into one where grassroots members like Jack were left to fight alone.
"But Professor, how did Angela survive that massive explosion? Smith died after she dragged him into the water. How did she survive her own self-detonation?"
—"For someone involved in the world of the supernatural, that's a rather strange question to ask. The intelligence claims you maintain close cooperation with a Godslayer, yet you seem utterly ignorant of the world of gods. I'm beginning to doubt how reliable the information provided by Sayanomiya truly is."
Accompanied by English spoken with a peculiar accent, an unfamiliar figure appeared outside the doorway.
Jack turned around.
For a moment, he was completely stunned.