"What?!!"
After returning to headquarters, the senior officer who had previously been responsible for capturing Inori stared at the real-time images transmitted from the scene. Every single frame showed nothing but miserably wrecked mechs—along with the corpses of their own soldiers. The large mechanized unit that had been deployed was now reduced to scrap metal.
Bang!!
He slammed both hands onto the desk.
"You're telling me all of this was done by a single infantry soldier?!"
He roared at the soldier across from him, venting his fury as if the man were personally responsible.
"Uh... at the time, the b-battle footage was extremely chaotic. We couldn't see clearly, but... it's very likely so."
The other man's voice grew smaller and smaller, finally admitting it cautiously.
"Bastard!!"
Bang!
He smashed the console again and shouted toward the other side.
"Ugh! We're extremely sorry!!"
The soldier trembled and immediately apologized.
"Haa... those rats!!"
The officer's face twisted with anger as he flipped through the transmitted images with his fingers. Occasionally, a clear shot would appear on the screen.
In the images was a young girl wielding what looked like a greatsword, cleaving through mechs with exaggerated slashes. On the cross-sections of the severed machines, crystalline formations could be seen spreading like a virus across the crippled frames. Some wrecks lacked those crystals but were instead stained with a purple residue that crackled faintly with electricity.
"Is this... anti-End Rave personal weaponry?"
He muttered under his breath as he examined the data overlay.
Not only that... those spreading crystal traces were clearly remnants of the Apocalypse Virus...
Damn those brats from Funeral Parlor!!
So they really hid the genome?!
And not only that—have they already put it to use?!
"The mission has completely failed..."
He lowered his head over the console and spoke in a heavy voice.
"Sir...?"
The subordinate called out carefully.
"How the hell am I supposed to report something like this?!"
Crash!!
He kicked over a nearby chair in rage. He had thought that dead bitch was already dealt with. Who would have expected her to escape?!
The room fell silent. No one dared to speak.
Buzz~
"Second Lieutenant Daryl Yan has arrived."
At that moment, the control room doors slid open automatically. A soldier outside announced the arrival before stepping aside to let the blond man behind him enter.
The man wore a tight pilot suit. He had short blond hair, violet eyes, and a faintly sickly look about him. Even his walk carried a careless swagger, and an inexplicable smile lingered at the corner of his lips.
Tap... tap...
He walked up to the officer.
"Turn it off."
The officer quietly ordered the screens behind him shut, then instantly replaced his expression with a welcoming smile, hands clasped behind his back.
"Ah... isn't this Second Lieutenant Daryl? Welcome, welcome!"
He fawned over him.
"The son of General Yan personally gracing us with a mobile cockpit—just as heroic as the rumors say. We are truly honored."
"..."
Daryl stood before him in silence, his face full of disdain.
"..."
This damn brat!
Though seething inside, the officer maintained his smile.
"Was it your father who sent you?" he asked.
"No, I came on my own. I happened to overhear the notification about the battle starting while transporting the new End Rave units to the operations center. Hehe... so I just came over. Simple as that~"
Daryl covered his right eye with one hand and flicked his hair back. His fox-like gaze darted around lazily. Combined with his punchable expression and tone, it made the officer's blood pressure spike.
"I just couldn't help myself~!! So I came~!! Hehe!"
"...I see. Thank you very much for your assistance, Second Lieutenant Daryl."
The officer stepped forward and extended his hand, intending to shake his in thanks.
However—
"...!!"
The moment Daryl saw the hand reaching toward him, his pupils shrank. His face twisted in disgust, even his mouth contorting.
"Don't joke with me..."
He lowered his gaze and spoke in a gloomy tone.
"...Hm?"
The officer froze.
"You want me to touch this pile of lard?! Huh—?!!"
"...What?!"
The officer's pupils contracted.
"Don't do that... I don't want my body contaminated with grease. I don't want to stink just because I stepped into a garbage heap!!"
Inhale—!!
Daryl took a sharp breath, forcibly calming himself. He ran his hands over his body and face as if brushing off imaginary filth, then looked at him again.
"Listen up, you fat pig. I'll act entirely according to my own will. If you get in my way... hehe~"
He laughed in a grotesque manner, tilting his head slightly, his face twisted.
"I'll tattle to my daddy... and have you stripped of your position, you pig. Hahaha~!"
Tap tap
After saying that, he turned and left without another glance, leaving the officer still holding out his hand—his face dark. Not that it wasn't dark to begin with.
"..." ×N
Everyone present wisely remained silent.
"That damned brat—!!!!"
Veins bulged on his forehead in rage. He spun around and roared at the people in the room and the troops outside the screens.
"Expand the search perimeter! I don't care if they're children or women—arrest them all and interrogate them ruthlessly! Anyone who resists is to be shot on the spot!!"
"Yes, sir!" ×N
...
At this moment, on the top floor of an abandoned building in Roppongi, many members of Funeral Parlor were hiding. This was their temporary base. "Temporary" meaning something like a tent—set up wherever convenient, relatively concealed.
Splash~
Squatting beside a bucket, she dipped a towel into warm water, wrung out the excess moisture, then slowly stood and returned to the girl's side, sitting down beside her.
Seeing her movements, Inori understood what she intended to do. She obediently turned toward her. The next second, she felt her bangs gently brushed aside by slender fingers, and the warm towel pressed softly against her wound. The touch was as gentle as water, as if handling something fragile.
"..."
She gazed at the beautiful face so close before her, blinking once before lowering her eyes.
The Shogun lifted the towel slightly to examine the bloodstained area where it had made contact, her delicate brows knitting faintly. She changed to a clean side and wiped the wound on the girl's forehead again.
"Tss~"
This time, however, the girl flinched slightly.
"Don't move..."
She whispered softly to her and continued wiping the wound.
Yet Inori instinctively dodged again...
"..."
The Shogun pursed her lips and looked at the disobedient girl with feigned annoyance.
"It hurts..."
Inori explained pitifully, her voice as soft and adorable as a kitten's.
"...Endure it."
She replied coldly on purpose.
"I can't... Blow on it."
The girl tugged at her sleeve.
"...Haa, wait a moment."
She did not refuse. After speaking, she dipped the towel back into the warm water, soaking it with heat once more. After wringing it out, she returned, leaned close to the girl's forehead, and gently blew cool air over the wound while wiping it with the towel.
"..."
Only then did Inori finally behave and let her clean the injury. Throughout the process, she stared at her face in a daze.
The wound on the girl's forehead was not severe, merely a few abrasions. Wiping it with a damp towel was enough... Next were her arm, abdomen, and thigh.
First was the arm... The most obvious injury was the cut she had made herself. Seeing it, the Shogun shot the girl a reproachful glare.
"...It was to lure the enemy. I had no choice."
Inori understood that look and answered smoothly in her soft voice, giving the excuse she had already prepared.
"..."
She continued staring at her.
"...Sorry."
Seeing she could not brush it off, Inori obediently apologized.
Hearing that, she did not pursue it further. She simply lowered her head and pressed the freshly dampened towel gently against the wound.
"Mm..."
The girl pressed her lips together, enduring the sting.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
She looked at her with heartache.
"..."
The girl slowly shook her head after seeing her concern.
Then she noticed the injuries on her abdomen. Though they were covered by clothing, she could easily imagine that they were already mottled with bruises.
"How did this happen?"
She asked.
"...They interrogated me. I was beaten. It's fine... I didn't say anything."
Inori replied.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She asked.
"...I didn't want Mio... to be in danger."
The girl answered.
"Haa... so it's fine as long as you're the one in danger, you idiot."
She scolded her softly, then gently pointed at Inori's left foot.
"Take off your shoe."
"..."
Inori obediently bent down and slowly removed her calf-length boot. The white stocking inside, faintly dyed red with blood, was revealed to the air. The red did not come from an injury on her foot, but from blood that had trickled down from the wound on her thigh.
After taking off the left boot, Inori seemed a little embarrassed, unsure where to place her foot. She shyly let stockinged foot hook lightly around the heel of the other boot.
"...///"
A faint blush spread across her face.