At midnight, the Togawa Residence was silent, with only one window at the end of the second floor stubbornly lit.
That used to be Togawa Kiyotsugu's study, where he handled affairs, and after it became Togawa Fuuki's living quarters, it still inherited the light that once burned all night.
At this moment, Fuuki sat before a large desk, the cold light of the screen reflecting on his tanned face, his golden hair appearing even calmer under the lamp, and his deep eyes intently scanning lines of information.
What flowed across the computer screen was not some shocking secret, but a detailed report on three ordinary middle school girls.
Nagasaki Soyo, Shiina Taki, Takamatsu Tomori.
This intelligence came from the information network he had previously set up. After White Snake's ability recovered somewhat, he took the time to further deeply hint at several necessary informants with a command disc, so that even if the other party suffered a severe head injury, the command disc would not immediately fail.
"Quite efficient," Fuuki thought blandly; within a few hours, the target individuals' outlines had been clearly sketched out.
In the afternoon, Togawa Sakiko described to them her ideal band prototype. And these three names were the indispensable "best candidates" in her eyes.
Fuuki's gaze first fell on Takamatsu Tomori's data.
Short, grayish-purple hair, with a hint of timid confusion always in her orange-pink eyes. In the photo, she stood under the entrance ceremony banner at her middle school gate, her figure slender.
Fuuki remembered her; just recently at Asukayama Park, he had briefly glimpsed fragments of this girl's memory using White Snake's ability. Those memories were like glass covered with mist, blurry, yet imbued with a heavy, poetic loneliness.
At that time, in order to capture a Stand User, he had controlled many tourists in the park with his Stand ability, then lured suspicious targets into the trap one by one, and this girl was one of the innocent passersby.
And after he fainted from excessive mental energy consumption, White Snake redundantly leaned him against the girl's slender shoulder for a brief rest.
Recalling it now, Fuuki gave her a simple evaluation in his heart: as a temporary pillow, barely passing. This "passing" probably stemmed from her docile and quiet personality, like a small animal, and the surprisingly un-bony shoulders.
He scrolled the mouse, and the page jumped to Nagasaki Soyo.
A student at Tsukinomori Girls' Academy, Sakiko's schoolmate.
The girl in the photo had a gentle and proper smile, and elegant demeanor, as if she were born a complete young lady. Sakiko had personally invited her after the Tsukinomori music festival.
Fuuki's understanding of this person was limited to this, his impression as vague as if seen through a veil. He only vaguely remembered that when Mutsumi was looking for a quiet place on campus, she seemed to have met her once, and Mutsumi seemed to have no special reaction at the time.
In the investigation information, Nagasaki Soyo was from a divorced family, and due to her father's abandonment, there were unfriendly discussions about her in the class, eventually leading to her transfer. Now her mother is a high-ranking executive in a large company, and her living conditions have made a huge leap, but her time is mostly devoted to work. Although she can provide Nagasaki Soyo with sufficient material support, emotional comfort is therefore lacking.
Fuuki organized and archived all her related experiences to form a corresponding personality analysis model later.
Finally, Shiina Taki.
This name was completely new to Fuuki. The girl in the profile picture had long black hair, a striking tear mole, and sharp eyes with an unyielding stubbornness.
Sakiko's reason for choosing her was direct—it stemmed from her older sister, Shiina Maki.
The accompanying information about Shiina Maki in the report confirmed Sakiko's judgment: she was a dazzling presence in all aspects, especially in the field of music, exceptionally talented and brilliant. Sakiko seemed to have received Shiina Maki's recommendation to designate this girl as the best candidate.
"With an older sister so musically talented, how does she, as the younger sister, view the invitation to form a band?"
The information of the three girls was like three chess pieces, clearly laid out on the chessboard of Fuuki's consciousness.
Fuuki closed the data window, leaving only the low hum of the host computer in the room. He leaned back in his chair, his fingertips unconsciously tapping the smooth tabletop, his gaze fixed on the deep night outside the window.
Thinking.
Fragments of intelligence were reorganized and analyzed in his mind.
Sakiko's fervent declaration of ideals from the afternoon still echoed in his ears, but what Fuuki was contemplating in his heart was far more than just the formation of a band.
Participating in the band was merely a long-term project on his path to exploring Gravity; as long as the band existed long enough, he could obtain sufficient information and samples.
But what he needed most now was power, his own power, sufficient to deal with all variables.
This thought became incredibly clear and urgent when he fully read the memory disc extracted from Maehara Naoto.
In that disc, the secrets of the Wayward band were shocking.
This seemingly free-spirited band was subtly backed by a vast and hidden organization. The organization granted the band superficial glory and freedom, but when that invisible hand needed it, band members had to become tools, completing commands at all costs.
This manipulated fate, and the predetermined future predicted by the meteorite fragment, ignited a resistance plan in the hearts of the band members—several explosions in Tokyo were part of their resistance plan, and only the band's Leader knew the true purpose.
The organization behind it naturally knew about Wayward's minor actions, yet never intervened, and this was what made Fuuki even more uneasy.
Such nationwide atrocities, would they not shake the organization's interests in the slightest?
With Fuuki's current strength, he was far from capable of confronting such a behemoth lurking in the shadows head-on; a direct clash would be like throwing an egg against a rock.
He had to quietly weave his own net before the other party noticed, or at least before they considered him a real threat—a force that could be used by him, that could escort him on his thorny path to [Heaven].
This force would be his shield, his spear, and, if necessary, his ladder to heaven.
And the cornerstone of this power would be its members.
In the initial stage, every link was crucial. He didn't need a friendship like with Wakaba Mutsumi—an object to entrust a part of his true heart to was too rare, too scarce.
What he needed was... absolute loyalty, a devotion akin to faith.
A figure clearly emerged in the depths of Fuuki's mind, with a golden luster and an abyssal aura—DIO, Dio Brando, his "close friend" from another world.
DIO possessed precisely that ability to transform followers into fanatical believers; they revered him as a god, as a savior, willing to die for him, to offer him everything.
"Savior?"
Fuuki repeated the word softly, his voice remarkably clear in the silent room, carrying a hint of cold amusement, yet also containing an undeniable determination.
He had long understood that the path to Heaven was destined to be a lonely journey of suffering, but he no longer insisted on bearing everything alone.
Beneath that ladder to paradise, countless believers and angels should gather, upholding that supreme ideal with their piety and strength.
How to gain such followers?
Ideals? Faith? Power? Charisma?
These could attract people, but Fuuki knew that the most core, most indispensable element was the [Self]—a powerful, firm, unshakeable [Self].
Only by condensing belief, power, and unique charisma in an existence that always adheres to the [Self] can one become an unswerving lighthouse in the darkness, an absolute [Benchmark] that attracts moths to a flame.
What followers look up to is this unyielding core.
He looked back at the desk; the computer screen had dimmed, but the three photos of girls tucked under the keyboard were faintly visible at the edge of the desk lamp's glow. Takamatsu Tomori's timid profile, Nagasaki Soyo's perfect smile, Shiina Taki's stubborn gaze.
The pieces were ready, the board was set.
The night outside the window was impenetrably dark, but the expression on Fuuki's face was even deeper and more resolute than the night. A clear plan began to take shape in his calm, deep-pool-like black eyes.
"The ladder to heaven can only be laid by the [Benchmark] himself."
Fuuki had decided on his goal, and he would personally take action.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
To Read Advanced Chapters, and support this novel, please join me on [email protected]/geats2000