Just as Seiji Fujiwara was enjoying himself, a counterattack aimed at him erupted across the global internet.
That alliance of tech enterprises sentenced to death by graphene technology had thrown money around, hiring the world's top public relations firms and a massive army of online trolls.
A massive smear campaign, with no warning whatsoever, swept across every mainstream social media and news platform on the planet.
"SHOCKING! Eastern Tech Giant Fujiwara Conglomerate Suspected of Stealing Core Technology From Top US Lab! Internal Documents Leaked!"
"Insider Reveals: Major Safety Hazards in Seiji Fujiwara's Graphene Tech, Could Paralyze Global Electronics! Will Our Phones Become Bombs?"
"In-Depth Analysis: How Could a 20-Year-Old Boy Overturn a Century of Tech History? Is There a Pact With the Devil Hidden Behind Him?"
Countless sensational headlines, paired with carefully forged "evidence," "chat logs," and "expert interviews," spread like a virus across the web.
Conspiracy theories sprouted everywhere, and public panic ignited instantly.
Boosted by algorithms, the negative information spread at geometric rates, drowning out every objective report attempting to clarify the facts.
The stock prices of every publicly listed company under the Fujiwara conglomerate dropped in response.
The drop wasn't large, but this constant stream of negative public sentiment was like swarms of irritating flies, buzzing endlessly, exhausting in its persistence.
"Boss!"
The Chief Secretary's emergency call came through again. "Have you seen it? The internet... the internet has gone insane! Their firepower is overwhelming. They've bought off half the internet! Every KOL and media outlet is sharing their hit pieces!"
"The legal department is preparing lawsuits, but international litigation takes ages. By the time we win, they'll have already destroyed the brand's reputation!"
"Oh?"
Seiji was sitting in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, watching the clear sky outside.
He held the phone in one hand, his tone as casual as if discussing the weather.
"So they've decided to give up competing with me on the technology front?"
"Yes! This is the cornered beast's last struggle! It's the impotent rage of sore losers!" the secretary said indignantly. "But Boss, we have to make a strong response immediately!"
"No need." Seiji took a light sip of his black tea, cutting him off mildly.
"Let them yell a little longer."
"I'm rather curious," Seiji said evenly, "to see just how loud a chorus of losers, about to be swept away by the tide of the times, can make in their final moments."
He hung up, then lowered his head and looked at Yukino, whose head was bobbing rhythmically beneath the desk.
"You're getting quite skilled, Yukino."
A look of comfortable enjoyment spread across his face.
...
Three days later.
3:00 a.m. Eastern Time.
A second earlier, Twitter, FaceReddit, and every other major social platform had still been flooded with topics, posts, videos, and news links about the "Fujiwara conglomerate technology scandal." In the very next instant, all of it vanished.
Not deleted. Not blocked. Vanished.
As though it had never existed at all. A user watching one of the related videos saw their screen go black; after refreshing, the video link displayed "404 Not Found."
A keyboard warrior in the middle of writing a comment hit send and discovered that his post, along with the entire thread board, had become a blank page.
Then, the media websites, public relations firms, and the official sites of the "Cyber Core" alliance's remnants that had published and spread these messages, one after another, became inaccessible.
Their server data, in countless data centers across the globe, was thoroughly and cleanly erased from the lowest physical drive level by an unseen force.
Countless IT engineers were dragged out of their sleep. Faced with empty databases and freshly formatted servers, they let out wails of despair.
"Where's our data? Customer files, financial reports, project code... it's all wiped out!"
"Oh god! This isn't a hack! There's no trace of any intrusion! The data... the data just evaporated into thin air! This isn't possible!"
The Tokyo Stock Exchange, NASDAQ, the New York Stock Exchange... every stock ticker tied to those companies, the moment markets opened, displayed nothing but a string of invalid dashes.
Their physical entities might still exist, but everything they represented in the digital world, financial reports, patents, customer information, brand value, had been reduced to zero.
A commercial alliance comprising dozens of multinational tech companies had, within a single hour, been completely "erased" from the internet.
The world fell into a terrifying silence.
Everyone knew what had happened, but no one dared discuss it.
Because they were afraid that they might be the next "evaporated" target.
The internet, that domain once celebrated as the freest of all, that night welcomed its absolute overlord.
And at the eye of the storm, inside Seiji's villa, everything remained as quiet as ever.
...
...
The morning sunlight poured through the spotless floor-to-ceiling windows, falling across the bedroom of the Fujiwara villa, that ornate gilded cage.
Yukino Yukinoshita stood in front of the enormous full-length mirror, meticulously straightening her clothes.
She'd already changed into her Sobu High uniform. The white shirt was ironed without a single wrinkle, the dark pleated skirt's hem perfectly even.
She extended her slender fingers and tied the red ribbon at her collar.
The girl in the mirror was peerlessly beautiful, her aura cool and aloof, still that "ice queen" who commanded awe from countless people at school.
Yukino lifted her head and looked silently at her own reflection.
Those eyes were as clear as water yet bottomlessly deep, holding none of the personal emotion that belonged to "Yukino Yukinoshita."
Her heart was perfectly calm.
In her mind, she was orderly working through today's "task list."
[7:30, depart for school.]
[This afternoon, the student council has a budget meeting regarding the school festival. Need to prepare related materials and several response plans in advance.]
[After school...]
At this thought, her hands paused slightly.
The humiliation and pleasure from the rooftop two days ago surfaced unbidden in her mind.
That helplessness of being toyed with at will, of being verbally teased without restraint, the body sinking beyond her control...
A faint flush rose on Yukino's cheeks.
Deep inside her body, something began to stir, bringing a faint, tingling current.
But her expression remained calm.
Yukino looked at the reflection in the mirror, at the girl whose face was tinged with red while her eyes remained hollow, and felt no self-loathing or shame.
Because she understood her current identity perfectly clearly.
Seiji Fujiwara's possession.
Her body, her entire value, was built upon Seiji's pleasure.
Whether being made to display her body on the rooftop or being made to handle complex business documents, to her, these were merely different forms of "tasks." There was no fundamental difference between them.
At that thought, the involuntary flush on her face slowly faded, returning to perfect composure.
...
...
The summer breeze carried a lazy warmth.
Seiji felt that life had been a touch too quiet lately.
The opponents in the industry crumbled at a touch, and the collectibles at school had already been preliminarily "calibrated." Both had begun to bore him slightly.
He decided it was time to give himself and his "collectibles" a small vacation.
More importantly, an interesting idea had suddenly bloomed in his mind.
If he gathered all his prized pieces together, what kind of fascinating sparks would they strike off one another?
The thought delighted him. So, under the name of a "private appreciation retreat," he sent invitations to each of them.
...
...
The Yuigahama residence.
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