"Household goods are being delivered as we speak. A few of the classrooms and dormitories need only minor conversion, which makes things convenient."
"Two or three more days and it should be ready to move into."
"The laboratory equipment may take longer to assemble in full. Some of the specialized instruments exist in very small numbers, and moving them into place quickly isn't easy."
A note of apology ran through Seitenshi's voice, as though she feared the equipment might delay Satoru's plans.
"Ready that soon?"
His eyes brightened, delight breaking across his face. The rest of it barely registered with him, but the question of when the place could be lived in did.
He'd been impatient to bring those Cursed Children over and give them a stable life.
"Going by the number of children in the 39th Area you described, another two days should do it."
She nodded and explained patiently. "The remaining facilities can be renovated while in use. It won't disturb the children's living arrangements."
Satoru nodded, satisfied, a smile spreading.
The Cursed Children he knew of numbered only a dozen or so. Arranging things for that many was simple enough.
"Good. In two days, send vehicles and bring all of them over."
His voice held firm, something gentle sitting in his eyes.
"And the rest of the Cursed Children after that. Round them up quickly. I don't want any of them out there wandering and suffering."
Seitenshi gave a small nod. Thinking of those children drifting through miserable lives, her expression filled with ache, and then softened into a relieved smile.
She'd always pitied them, always wanted to help, and never possessed the means. With Satoru behind her, she could finally do something for those girls.
"I've already assigned Captain Yasuwaki to handle it."
She spoke with a trace of certainty. "He's said to have compiled quite a list of Cursed Children already. I'm sure you'll see results soon."
"Takuto Yasuwaki?"
Satoru's eyes narrowed slightly at the name, something appraising flickering through them.
The name rang a bell. Her Guard Captain. Capable enough, with a mind that ran deeper than it showed.
"Understood. I hope your Guard Captain doesn't disappoint me."
His tone stayed flat, giving away nothing.
Where the Cursed Children were concerned, he wanted no missteps.
"Disappoint?"
Seitenshi frowned, puzzled, unable to follow him.
She'd never warmed to Yasuwaki herself, though she couldn't say why. In fairness, the man had never fumbled his regular duties.
The remark made no sense to her.
He offered no explanation, so she let it go and only nodded. "I'll remind Captain Yasuwaki to see to it quickly."
Everything was falling into place.
Leaning by the window, Satoru trailed a fingertip along the frame and watched the orderly flow of people on the street below. Something in him loosened, a slack he hadn't felt in a long while.
Compared to backing Felt in that royal selection business, all that careful maneuvering, that constant guard, life in this world felt so smooth it barely seemed real.
Though he understood a good part of that came down to the world itself being weak.
Nothing here like Reinhard, no crushing, unmatched force. No power capable of overturning everything on a whim.
No need to brace for a lethal ambush at any moment, no need to burn energy balancing factions against each other. The dull, steady rhythm of it let him relax in a way he rarely got to.
Over the next two days, all of Tokyo went to work.
A city that had been calm seemed to have a fast-forward button pressed. Hurried figures filled every street.
Even helicopters, rare in ordinary times, crossed the sky one after another, shuttling out toward the city's edge, the drone of rotors hanging over the rooftops and refusing to fade.
Civil Security in uniform fanned out through every district with radios in hand, working door to door, faces tight and urgent.
They hunted one thing: the Stage 4 Gastrea that had taken an object of enormous importance, and the masked stranger whose identity nobody could pin down.
Rentaro worked the front line of the investigation without letting up.
His direction, though, ran sharper and narrower than everyone else's.
He started from prosthetics, the thing he knew best, and used what he understood about their construction and repair channels to sift through possibilities piece by piece. Threads other people had walked past began surfacing.
He gripped his notebook, its pages crowded with everything he'd turned up, eyes steady.
Follow the small signs far enough and they'd lead somewhere. Keep at it and the man behind all this would leave a trail.
A peaceful city began to churn underneath all that activity.
Something taut hung in the air, a net drawing closed around every hidden thing.
While everyone hunted the Stage 4 Gastrea and the masked Kagetane Hiruko, one group busied itself with something else entirely.
Out on Tokyo's fringe, in the 39th Area.
Nothing remained of what the district had once been. Rubble stretched in every direction, broken walls jutting up, weeds shoving through cracked stone, dust rising in sheets whenever the wind moved through.
"Cursed Children?"
Yasuwaki stopped and glanced down at the gravel under his boots, his mouth curling with contempt, voice thick with disgust.
"At a time like this, they send me to a hellhole like this to look for garbage. Somebody's brain isn't working."
His face could have been carved from ice, cold enough to keep anyone at a distance. He walked the ruins at an unhurried pace, irritation trailing him.
Two guardsmen followed close behind, uniforms sharp, postures straight, reluctance plain on both faces.
Yasuwaki lifted his head toward the helicopters cutting across the distant sky, listening to that grating roar, and the discontent in those narrow eyes nearly spilled over.
Of every assignment he might have drawn, this was the stupidest and the worst.
For a long time now he'd watched Seitenshi train that enviable magic, watched that strange power move through her hands, and jealousy had grown in him like weeds nobody cut.
That power, strong and mysterious, was everything he wanted. He'd imagined it countless times. With magic like that and his own ability, he'd have carved out something of his own instead of kneeling beneath anyone.
Yet no path existed for him to touch it. He could only watch from a distance, resentment and impatience piling up.
He'd taken several chances to nudge her indirectly, pushing her to ask Satoru to teach the magic to more people, particularly to those who served her and defended Tokyo.
Twice he'd raised it. Twice she'd given him nothing, neither yes nor no. Worse, his repeated hints had cooled her toward him, and something distant crept into the way she looked at him.
Against that, he had no move to make.
She ruled Tokyo. He captained a guard detail. Whatever bitterness he carried, defying her openly wasn't an option, so he buried the jealousy and kept it quiet.
And this time, if Satoru hadn't arranged matters, he'd have been part of the large-scale investigation.
Not on the dangerous front line, not facing a Stage 4 Gastrea or Kagetane Hiruko himself, but seated among the command staff, coordinating from the rear.
Safe, and positioned to collect credit. Merit without risk, a better-looking record, and a chance to register himself in Seitenshi's eyes and pave the way for a promotion later.
Instead?
He'd gotten neither. No place in the important operation, no opportunity to show his worth, and now he was stuck in this desolate, ruined stretch of nowhere counting and searching for so-called Cursed Children.
The thought of touching those inferior mongrels with Gastrea blood running through them, of dealing with trash the whole of society had thrown away and everyone despised, made his skin crawl. Nausea climbed up from his stomach, close to bringing his lunch with it.
"Captain, are we honestly hunting for those mongrels?"
One of the men behind him faltered a step, face twisted with reluctance, unable to keep it in any longer.
The task clearly interested him not at all. It repelled him from the inside out.
Loathing for the Cursed Children didn't belong to Yasuwaki alone, nor to these two.
It ran through the whole of society, prejudice and hatred carved into most people's bones.
Some buried it and kept up appearances. Others acted on it, like the pair Satoru's group had run into.
"Would you rather disobey Lady Seitenshi's orders?"
He didn't break stride or turn his head, the words cold and level and impossible to read.
Both men frowned, confusion filling their eyes.
Their captain hated the Cursed Children more than anyone. He never bothered hiding the disgust in his voice when he mentioned them, and he'd gone out of his way to shoot drifting ones for entertainment.
So why invoke Seitenshi's orders now, why demand they search in earnest? Had he turned over a new leaf? The two exchanged a glance and found the same bewilderment in each other, but neither dared ask. They fell in behind him, questions piling up.
"Still, searching doesn't mean we can't enjoy ourselves along the way, does it?"
Yasuwaki tilted his head slightly as he spoke, and something cold and cruel flashed through those narrow eyes. No warmth in it at all, only undisguised malice, the look a man gives prey.
Both men blinked, then caught on. A glance passed between them and they broke into low laughter, the confusion gone, replaced by the same malice and eagerness their captain wore.
"Captain's right!"
"Trust him to think it through. Let's get moving, then, and find some 'fun' early."
That made sense to them. Their captain had never been the sort to pity a Cursed Child or carry out a dull assignment obediently.
Protecting them was unthinkable. He'd taken his men out "hunting" more than once.
Hunting. The word was accurate.
They sought out the ones drifting alone, without protection of any kind, and chased them like game.
They treated them like livestock, draining their strength bit by bit, watching them panic and scatter, then tormenting them at length until the girls collapsed weeping and begging, before finishing them personally.
Holding another life in his hands, owning another person's fate, watching a Cursed Child grovel and break in front of him, was the thing Yasuwaki loved most, and the only outlet he had for the bitterness and violence packed inside him.
Guard Captain had never once felt equal to his ambition or his talent.
He rated himself highly. A man of extraordinary capability, in his own estimation, who ought to be holding real power.