...
Inside Seiji Fujiwara's private penthouse suite.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows lay a city that had survived its own apocalypse. Traffic on the streets had returned to normal, and in the distance you could even see crowds celebrating spontaneously. The neon lights of the city had come on, more dazzling than usual, full of clamor and vitality.
Inside the windows, however, was a stillness cut off from the world.
Seiji Fujiwara leaned back on the sofa. He held a glass of whiskey, the ice clinking softly inside it.
On the screen in front of him was the stock chart of the Fujiwara conglomerate. The line representing wealth was climbing in a brutal, almost vertical surge.
He had named this operation "Kamiyama Purification."
He himself stayed hidden behind the scenes under the identity of "Anonymous." But the pharmaceutical companies and logistics businesses under the Fujiwara conglomerate had long since positioned themselves in advance. They were now ravenously devouring the market vacuum left behind by Abundant Future's collapse, along with the massive flood of orders generated by public panic.
This was his real harvest.
The fame went to that intangible "Kira."
The profits, he quietly swept into his own pocket.
At that moment, the doorbell rang.
There was no surprise on Seiji's face. This visitor's arrival had long been factored into his calculations. He simply pressed the door release on the wall.
The apartment door slid open without a sound. A slim, familiar figure appeared in the doorway.
It was Fuyumi Irisu.
She had changed out of her disheveled school uniform and into a simple black dress. Her crisp short hair was groomed to perfection. The expression on her face was ice-cold, like a mask devoid of emotion.
Deep in her eyes there was a numbness and emptiness she could not entirely conceal. If you ignored that, anyone seeing her now would have taken her for a sharp, capable career secretary arriving to give a report.
In her hand she held a thin folder.
She had received no order, no invitation. She had simply come uninvited.
"Mr. Fujiwara."
Fuyumi walked up to Seiji. She bowed slightly and held the folder out to him with both hands, respectfully.
Her voice was steady, betraying nothing.
Seiji didn't take it right away.
He raised his eyes and studied her, a hint of amusement on his face.
"What did you come here for?" he asked lightly.
"This is the report I've put together." Fuyumi kept her head lowered, holding the folder out without moving an inch. "An analysis of the situation following Abundant Future's collapse."
Her speech was neither rushed nor slow, the logic clear.
"The report has three parts. First, an inventory of remaining assets at Abundant Future's Japan branch that are now available for acquisition. Second, the three most likely counterattack strategies Masao Takahashi will adopt after taking over, along with my proposed countermeasures. Third, profiles of the five publicly listed companies whose stock has crashed because of this incident. I believe they are suitable targets for the Fujiwara conglomerate to move in on."
What she had lost the night before was a woman's dignity.
What she displayed now was the talent of an executive.
This was Fuyumi's way of demonstrating her new value.
The corner of Seiji's mouth curled into a smile that was almost imperceptible.
He knew this fish was thoroughly hooked. She had been tamed, on the level of the spirit.
Fuyumi was a rationalist taken to the extreme. When she discovered there was no way to defeat her opponent, she would not choose irrational resistance. That did not serve her interests.
She would choose to submit.
She would offer herself as the most valuable piece on the board, voluntarily attaching herself to the strongest player.
This fit the "optimal solution" in her mind.
Last night's bodily transaction had been the "admission ticket" she paid.
Tonight's report was the "pledge of loyalty" she now submitted.
"Is that so?"
Seiji reached out and accepted the report.
He flipped through a couple of pages at random. The data was thorough, the analysis precise enough that any top-tier investment bank would happily offer her a high-paying contract on the strength of it.
"Good analysis." Seiji closed the folder and set it aside casually. "Even better than I had expected."
That bland bit of praise made Fuyumi's body tremble, almost imperceptibly.
She kept her head down, her voice now even softer than before.
"It is my honor to be of service to you."
Seiji stood and walked over to the bar cabinet. He poured another glass of whiskey and handed it to her.
"Have a drink with me."
It was not a question. It was an order.
Fuyumi silently accepted the glass. The wall of the glass was cold, the liquid icy. Her tense palms felt a little hot, and that trace of chill steadied her somewhat.
She didn't drink. She just held the glass quietly, waiting for the next instruction.
She was already very clear about her current position. A tool, an object, a secretary waiting for her master's commands.
A subtle silence settled over the suite.
A sharp ringtone broke the quiet.
It was Seiji's private phone.
He glanced at the caller ID and answered.
From the other end came the low voice of his assistant.
"Boss, our monitoring network just detected another major agricultural anomaly breaking out on a large scale in the Kamiyama Region."
"Get to the point," Seiji said, his tone unchanged.
"It's the Chitanda Family's farmland."
The assistant continued in a grave tone. "A pest species we have no record of in our databases, with extremely strong drug resistance. They're devouring the rice plants at a terrifying speed. The local Ministry of Agriculture office has already stepped in, but the preliminary assessment is that all known pesticides may be completely useless."
Seiji listened in silence.
"Understood."
After those two words, he hung up cleanly.
He walked slowly to the enormous floor-to-ceiling window and looked down. The city was loud and prosperous, its night view brilliant.
Kengo Yamamoto had been removed.
Fuyumi Irisu had been brought to heel.
The medical industry of the Kamiyama Region was now firmly in his grasp.
And now...
He turned his head and glanced beside him.
Fuyumi was standing there with her eyes lowered, demure. She held the wineglass in her hand, like a quiet sculpture, waiting for his command.
A tool of exceptional ability, already in his possession.
Seiji's lips curled into a smile. It was a smile full of amusement and anticipation.
A new game on the board was beginning.
This time, the prey was Eru Chitanda.
... ...
The next day.
In the eyes of the Chitanda Family, the sky had fallen on the Kamiyama Region.
Not because of a virus, but because of insects.
Through the aerial lenses of news helicopters, the rice paddies of the Chitanda Family were being rapidly consumed by vast patches of an eerie, withered yellow.
This land had been passed down for centuries. It should have been a sea of green.
Close-ups zoomed in. Countless pests greedily gnawed at the rice plants, producing a rustling sound that made one's scalp crawl. Their carapaces glinted with a cold, metallic sheen in the sunlight.
On television, the female anchor read the news in a heavy tone.
"...According to an emergency report released by the Ministry of Agriculture, this new species of pest displays complete resistance to all known pesticides. Its reproductive rate is more than thirty times that of conventional pests. The expert panel has classified it as an unprecedented 'Class A Ecological Disaster' and warned that there is a substantial risk of nationwide spread..."
At the same time, in Seiji Fujiwara's penthouse office.
Fuyumi Irisu was reporting the data to him. Her stance was perfect, like a textbook secretary.
Her voice was steady and her expression blank, as if she were playing back a pre-recorded report.
The data on the tablet in her hand, however, was alarming.
"Boss, our intelligence network is monitoring in real time. The Chitanda Family's farmland is projected to be completely destroyed within seventy-two hours. At that point, the Chitanda Family will go directly bankrupt. Agricultural stocks in the Kamiyama Region have already hit limit-down across the board. Our intelligence indicates the party behind this incident is, once again, Abundant Future. Their goal is to push the adoption of their own genetically modified seeds."
Seiji's gaze fell on the screen.
It was a profile photo of Eru Chitanda.
The image had been captured in real time from a hidden surveillance camera near the Chitanda residence. The girl in the photo still had a face full of innocence and curiosity, but right now it was filled with bewilderment and worry.
He spoke lightly. "A perfect dead end. Tailor-made for her."
He turned to Fuyumi and added, "A puzzle only I can solve. A hopeless situation only I can break. You were the same, once."
Standing behind him, Fuyumi went almost imperceptibly stiff at those words.
"Hopeless situation." She knew the phrase only too well.
She lowered her head silently, her long lashes hiding the emotion in her eyes. Her voice, however, remained as steady as a machine's.
"Yes, Boss."
"Good." Seiji tapped his fingertip lightly on the desktop. "Since it's prepared for her, then let her come to me of her own accord. Irisu, monitor everything she does. Including every argument she has with her father, every plea for help she makes. I want a report documenting the entire process of her descent from hope to despair. Make it thorough, with particular attention to the changes in her psychological state."
"...Yes, Boss." Fuyumi lowered her head in acknowledgment.
Seiji said nothing more.
He simply watched calmly as the red figures of mounting losses scrolled across the screen. He knew that when every last hope of a family had been blocked off, that family's most precious asset would deliver itself to his door.
... ...
At this moment in the Chitanda household, the atmosphere in the Council Hall was as heavy as iron.
Eru's father, a stubborn, traditional family head, was slamming his hand on the table at several Ministry of Agriculture officials who had hurried in from Tokyo.
"I'll say it again! We of the Chitanda Family have no need for any of that filthy chemical garbage! We have our own methods! We have the Pest Repelling Secret Records, passed down for four hundred years!"
The lead official was named Sasaki.
He was a middle-aged man, his face full of impatient self-assurance.
He gestured for a subordinate to open a silver metal case. Inside, a dozen or so syringes were neatly arrayed.
"Mr. Chitanda, please trust in science. This represents the absolute pinnacle of Japanese biotech," Sasaki said. "We worked through the night analyzing samples of the pest. This 'EX-7' pesticide can, in theory, completely destroy its nervous system. Times have changed. Your secret records cannot deal with a genetic weapon..."
Another, younger official chimed in. "That's right, head of household. Your methods may have been effective against pests of the past, but what we face now is an enemy unlike anything seen before. We must use stronger means."
Eru Chitanda was kneeling quietly to one side.
In her hands was a sample of the pests she had just collected from the fields. Looking at the creatures inside the glass jar, she saw they were still full of vigor, their carapaces gleaming with metallic sheen, and her purple eyes were filled with puzzlement.
At last she could no longer hold back, and tried to speak.
"Mr. Sasaki..." she said. "I observed them under a microscope. The carapace of this pest exhibits an unnatural, layered structure, very much like some kind of high-molecular polymer. Its digestive system seems able to directly break down specific chemical bonds in the pesticide. May I ask, has the analysis report on its genetic sequence come back yet? I'd like to see the arrangement of base pairs and check whether there are any traces of artificial editing."
Before she could finish, her father cut her off sharply.
"Eru! Be quiet! There's no place for you to speak here! Don't ask such useless questions!"
Sasaki gave a contemptuous chuckle and waved his hand. "Miss Chitanda, this isn't the time to indulge your curiosity. We're here to solve a problem, not give a biology lecture. Rest assured, exterminating them is more important than studying them."
Cut off by both men at once, Eru could only lower her head.
She just felt that charging in to attack without first understanding the enemy was unreasonable, and extremely dangerous. But her voice was too small to be heard.
... ...
Out in the test fields, the Ministry of Agriculture officials carried out a public spraying of the pesticide.
Camera flashes fired off without pause. Official Sasaki personally operated the equipment, spraying that "ultimate weapon" EX-7 over the area worst hit by the disaster.
Under the expectant gaze of everyone present, the pests in the sprayed area only stirred for a moment.
A faint glimmer flashed across their carapaces, and then they continued to gnaw frantically at the rice plants without so much as a scratch on them. Their feeding actually sped up. Certain components in EX-7 seemed to function as a stimulant for them instead.
The confidence on Sasaki's face froze in an instant.
His expression shifted into uncomprehending shock and panic.
"Impossible... this is absolutely impossible!" he shouted, losing his composure. "The compositional analysis was correct! Why is this happening?!"
He ordered his subordinates, "Increase the dosage! Crank the concentration to maximum! I refuse to believe we can't burn them to death!"
The subordinates scrambled to adjust the equipment. They sprayed undiluted, high-concentration pesticide directly onto the field. The result was no different.
Sasaki collapsed onto the ground, muttering "impossible" over and over again.
Then came tradition.
After the officials declared their failure, Eru's father stubbornly summoned the entire clan.
He held a grand pest-repelling ceremony that had been passed down in the family for centuries.
The ceremony continued from dusk into the dead of night, solemn and reverent. But the day after it ended, the pest disaster did not weaken at all. It only grew worse. New egg masses were discovered, hatching at an astonishing speed.
The "tradition" and "honor" the old man took such pride in were ground to dust before the reality of the situation. He took an enormous blow, the spirit gone out of him entirely. In a single day, he seemed to have aged ten years.
...
The Fujiwara conglomerate moved with the speed of lightning. That very afternoon, the day the Ministry of Agriculture officials moved in, a phone call came through to the reception room of the Chitanda household.
The caller was Fuyumi Irisu.
Seiji Fujiwara was sitting on the sofa across from her. As he sipped at his black tea, he gestured with his eyes for her to press the speakerphone button. He wanted to hear that family's reaction with his own ears. To him, it was an entertaining piece of theater.
"...Hello, this is the Chitanda residence." From the other end of the line came Eru Chitanda's clear but worried voice.
"Eru, this is Fuyumi Irisu." Fuyumi's voice was steady and formulaic, betraying no personal emotion. "I am calling on behalf of a biotech company under the Fujiwara conglomerate, to formally propose a business cooperation with your household. We possess a technology called 'Infrasonic Ecological Intervention Technology,' which can completely eradicate this pest disaster."
"Senpai Irisu?" There was a hint of pleasant surprise and curiosity in Eru's voice. "Sound wave technology? What is that? I'm so curious. By what principle does it work? Does it use vibrations of a specific frequency to destroy the internal organs of the pests?"
Before she could finish, an enraged roar broke in from beside her.
"Charlatans putting on a show!"
Eru's father snatched the phone away and bellowed into the receiver. "We don't need scraps of charity from the likes of you merchants! Fujiwara conglomerate or not, this is Kamiyama! We have the government's experts! Get out!"
With that, he slammed the phone down hard.
"Father!" Eru shot to her feet, frantic. "That was my senpai from Kamiyama High School. She isn't a charlatan! And the strength of the Fujiwara conglomerate..."
"Silence!"
Her father glared at her, fury all over his face. "You are a young woman. You have no business getting tangled up with merchants of suspect background like that! All they do is use sweet talk to swindle money out of people! You stay home and behave yourself. Watch how Mr. Sasaki and his men solve the problem! They are the professionals!"
In the face of her father's unquestionable authority, Eru could only bite her lip and swallow back every word she had wanted to say.
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